Unfinished Business
by ValleyA
Summary: Peter is on a stake out at a cemetery when he and his prisoner inadvertently open a tomb filled with the spirits of murdered Chinese workers, all hell breaks loose afterward
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** "Unfinished Business"

**Author:** Valleya

**Disclaimer:** KFTLC and its myriad of characters belong to Michael Sloan and others. I am only borrowing them for the purpose of delivering another Halloween tale, to frighten, creep, and generally gross out my cyber-buddies. The legal beagles among TPTB require I must declare that I will not claim credit for any of the following for monetary purposes. Anything else would like chasing after the wind, cuz there's definitely no money involved! Only the story itself is mine as are the original characters.

**Canon Characters:** Peter Caine, Kwai Chang Caine, Blake, Kermit Griffin, Mary Margaret Skalany, Jody Powell, TJ Kincaid, Dr. Sabourin and other medical staff, Chief Strenlich, Xenia, Inky, Randy, and an old villain

**Original Characters:** Paramedics, carnival workers, various hostages held by Dr Frieze, the assorted Medical Staff at Mercy General**. **

**Author's notes:** This story was written several years ago following the death of my mother. I have recently pulled it out and polished it up to post here. I hope you enjoy it!

**Archiving:** By permission only

**Rating:** R for violence

**Word count:** 41,774

**Synopsis:** Peter is on a stake out at a cemetery when he and his prisoner inadvertently open a tomb filled with the spirits of murdered Chinese workers, all bent on murdering all those tainted by the ashes of the tomb. It's up to the gang to prevent that from happening.

**Warning: **There's some Peter/Jody shipping, along with Caine/Skalany shipping. Just FYI, if that makes you squeamish. Nothing over the top, but it's there.

**"Unfinished Business"**

**By ValleyA**

**Chapter One**

**(Time line: Set one year after "Chill Ride")**

Peter Caine sniffed and rubbed at his nose. He was supposed to be off duty hours ago, but a last minute stakeout had changed his plans. One of the suspects in a murder case was supposed to show up at an illegal after-hours visit to a cemetery as part of a gang initiation.

This particular cemetery was chosen because a rival gang member had been killed the previous month and was now buried there. The Dueling D's gang initiation involved defacing the dead man's grave site, among other things.

Peter skimmed the area with a sweeping glance, just as he'd done countless times in the last few hours, and sighed when he found nothing different. The place was so quiet all he could hear his own breathing. How ironic that in a world filled with motors and machinery the only prominent sound he could hear was his own respirations in and out. The foreboding quiet made him feel as if he was the only man alive in the world.

The thought unsettled him and he stomped his feet to stave off the cold and to make enough noise to assure himself that he was still in the land of the living. A full harvest moon overhead provided him enough light to see if anyone was sneaking around, but still dim enough for him to stand behind the cemetery's main entrance without being seen.

"Come on, Ricardo, show your sorry ass, so I can arrest you and get to the carnival," he whispered, not meaning to say the words aloud.

Blake's voice came across Peter's earpiece, startling him since the electronics expert had been silent for nearly an hour. "Peter, do you actually think that they will still be waiting dinner for you?" Blake asked with a curious tone in his voice, "I mean, you are officially two hours and three minutes late for that dinner at the moment."

Peter grunted, glancing at his watch, and turning it so the face of the watch picked up the ambient moonlight, allowing him to read the time. "Thanks for reminding me, Blake. Just keep your mind on work and tell me if you see something, anything, on your video hookups?"

Peter heard the nervous edge echo in his voice. Being in a cemetery with a full moon overhead had evoked long forgotten childhood fears about the dead rising again and coming after the first living soul available – namely him. Apparently, old horror films watched in secret in the dead of night at the monastery had left a lasting impression on young Peter. Most of his jitteriness was his own fault, though, he certainly hadn't planned on the stakeout consuming most of the night.

"What are you expecting me to see, Peter? I told you this rumor was a longshot and it was likely that we'd both be wasting our time here."

Peter rubbed his arms in an effort to warm himself. His leather jacket and layers of shirts kept out most of the late October chill, but it was obvious that winter had settled in for a long and arduous season.

"Yeah, Blake, it might be a colossal waste of time, but if Ricardo does show, it will be well worth the effort. This is one bad ass dude and he's all mine," Peter said ominously, then he grunted. Maybe, he'd been around Kermit too much – he was definitely starting to acquire some of Kermit's more threatening characteristics.

Blake didn't seem to notice. "Leave him to the gang task force, Peter. They can nail him much easier than we can. They deal with these people all the time."

Ricardo had been part of the bold drive-by shooting that had inadvertently caught Jody while she was doing some undercover work. The shooting a week earlier had left Jody in a deep coma. The three hookers standing beside her, also caught in the hail of bullets, weren't as lucky. They didn't even make it to the hospital alive. The other two cohorts in the car with Ricardo had been arrested, but Ricardo, the shooter, had eluded capture.

Peter knew he should listen to Blake's advice, but his desire to nab Ricardo Espinosa was too strong. Remembering his interview with his snitch, there had been something truly fearful in Donny DD's eyes, as if he was battling his own survival instincts in order to share the meager information with Peter. Fear like that wasn't easily contrived. It connected with Peter on a gut level, telling Peter he'd better follow the lead and check out the cemetery, or he might be missing a very good chance to grab Espinosa.

Blake's voice drew him from his thoughts. "Besides, Peter, nailing Ricardo isn't going to get Jody out of the hospital any faster. Personally, I think you're wound a little too tight from spending so much time at the hospital this week, waiting for her to come out of her coma. And the fact that she hasn't done so yet has gotten to you. It's tough, but I think we all need to brace ourselves for the possibility that Jody might not ever wake up."

Peter practically growled, "She'll wake up, Blake. And I don't want to hear another word about her not waking up!"

The gruff tone Peter used surprised himself. He hadn't meant to come down on Blake so hard. Peter took a deep breath to calm his overactive nerves. The truth was, it had been a very long week, with hour upon hour spent sitting at Jody's side, praying that she would awaken and be okay again, only to be disappointed by her complete lack of response to outside stimuli.

Blake's voice interrupted the disturbing memory, as if he had somehow sensed Peter's thoughts had drifted back to Jody at the hospital. The older man's tone was softer as he added, "I'm sorry, Peter. Sometimes I say things without thinking them through. We are all praying for Jody's recovery, but I still think your exhaustion is clouding your judgment here."

The older man went silent for a moment and Peter could hear him sigh before he said, "Maybe you should consider a leave of absence. That way, you can spend all the time you want at the hospital. You're burning the candle at both ends by trying to be there and working, too. That kind of overexertion causes a man to make stupid mistakes. And in our business, one stupid mistake is all it takes to make you dead."

Peter began pacing, infuriated by Blake's practicality. It was nearly as irritating as some of his father's advice. Besides, it cut deep into his well of swirling emotion. Blake might have been right in his comments, but there was something inside of Peter driving him to be the one to bust Jody's assailant, therefore the leave of absence was out of the question.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized Blake had been on target on several points. Peter wasn't a Superman, as much as he tried to prove to the world otherwise. Jody needed him and he was determined to be there for her as much as he possibly could, but he was also determined to bring down Espinosa for what he did to Jody.

The two goals battled for Peter's attention. If they could nail Espinosa tonight, then Peter could stop by the hospital to tell Jody the good news. Maybe it would make a difference to her. He debated calling Xenia and Inky on his cell phone. Getting together with the two of them would have been good, especially after all this time, but he just couldn't stay away from Jody when she needed him so much.

He hesitated, though. More than food, he craved a taste of how the rest of the world calmly went on without the worries of drive-by shootings and gang initiation rites. It seemed there was way too much drama going on in his life to afford that kind of luxury.

Peter dragged a hand through his hair and was about to apologize to Blake when the older man's voice broke through his thoughts. "I'm going to make this suggestion one more time. Maybe we should break this thing up. We've been here for hours and nothing's happened."

A sudden movement out of the corner of Peter's left eye ended any thoughts of leaving.

"Hold on, we've got company," Peter whispered as he hugged the shadows to follow a lone man walking along the sidewalk as if it were the middle of the day instead of midnight. The man was medium height, but muscular. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his long trench coat and, as if expecting trouble, he constantly glanced over his shoulder.

Peter could hear Blake moving in the van as he spoke, probably checking his equipment, then Blake said, "There's nothing on my monitors!"

"Shush," Peter whispered. It didn't matter the perp couldn't hear Blake through Peter's ear piece, but Peter wanted to focus his attention solely on his prey. He began shadowing the man's movements.

Suddenly, the suspect turned around without warning, causing Peter to draw deeper into the shadows. As he moved, the man's face became clearly illuminated in the bright moonlight.

Peter clenched his fists when he recognized Ricardo and he whispered, "Gotcha, you asshole. You won't ever do a drive-by shooting again, if I have anything to say about it."

Ricardo went back on the move again and Peter fell into step behind him as he said, "This is for you, Jody."

**oOoOoOoOo**

"Oh, Caine, you never cease to amaze me," Mary Margaret Skalany said as she watched Kwai Chang Caine make balloon animals for the children on the midway of the fairgrounds.

She chuckled at Kwai Chang's bemused smirk. Caine finished making a giraffe, the final in a series of complicated balloon figures, and handed it to the last remaining child.

The kids shouted their thanks and took off running to show their parents. Caine slipped an arm under Mary Margaret's and whispered, "It is such a little thing to produce amazement, Mary Margaret."

He kissed her cheek, as he whispered, "The trick is to remain in constant wonder at the miracle of life going on all around us."

Mary Margaret smiled as she watched the children carrying their prized balloons and sighed. "It is a trick you do very well, my friend."

The noise of the carnival nightlife ebbed and flowed around them. It surged again and drowned out any further conversation. She looked up at him, noticing how the glow of the neon lights highlighted Caine's sweet smile.

He took her hand as they wandered through the midway's attractions. When the crowd's din quieted again, Mary Margaret leaned toward Kwai Chang. "Sharing my birthday with you like this is much more romantic than spending it with the gang from work last year, especially when dead bodies started popping up like apples in a barrel at a Halloween apple-bobbing contest."

Caine's smile vanished as he nodded slowly. "That was a very dark time. Freize's evil was nearly unstoppable."

Mary Margaret touched his arm. "Hey, why the grim face? You stopped him with the help of Peter and Freize's brother, Wolf. You did stop him."

The Shaolin priest's expression didn't soften with her words. If anything, a dark cloud of apprehension seemed to descend upon his normally serene features. Mary Margaret felt lightly shaken by the sight and touched him, gently trying to pull him out of his trance when he didn't do so on his own. The longer it took to get a reaction from him, the more worried she became. She had been around Caine long enough to know his silences were often portents of dark times to come.

"Caine?" she asked, raising her voice to be heard over the happy shrieks of the Ferris wheel riders as it swirled a short distance from them. "What's going on?"

Caine moved finally, closing his eyes. He nearly dropped to his knees before she caught him. There was a nearby booth selling cinnamon rolls and she led him over to sit at one of their tables. Kneeling down, she put a hand to his face. "Kwai Chang Caine, if you don't answer me this second, I'm calling in the paramedics."

Caine's hazel eyes rose to meet hers and her heart ached to see such fear and anguish there. "He – he has returned."

"Who...who has returned? Dammit, Caine, talk to me!" she nearly shouted to be heard as the noise level rose again.

Caine pushed away from the table, staggering to his feet, as he whispered, "We must warn Wolf. He is in grave danger."

Mary Margaret followed him, still unsure why Wolf would be in danger, but she was positive that wherever Kwai Chang went in the next few moments, mayhem was sure to follow.

She reached into her purse and grabbed her cell phone, then dialed the precinct's direct line to the police dispatcher. "This is Detective Skalany. I need an available unit to be sent to the fairgrounds ASAP, but make it a silent approach unless I call you back. I'm at the far west side of the grounds, off McClelland, near the big carnival rides at the rear of the park."

She hung up and shoved the phone back into her purse, but her gaze never left Caine's back as he stumbled along. The fact that he seemed to be gaining strength gave her little consolation. There was something in his body language that frightened the hell out of her. She hurried to catch up with him, again touching his forearm to get his attention.

"Caine, where are we going? Did you say that Wolf is in danger?"

Caine nodded, and then shifted directions and shook his head in disagreement, his erratic gestures adding to Mary Margaret's fear and confusion. "The danger is all around us now. Around so many. I – I must go to where I sense the greatest risk," he whispered breathlessly, almost as if he was apologizing for his decision.

Mary Margaret swallowed and glanced to the carnival rides ahead of them. She remembered some of Peter's stories of his time spent undercover at the carnival and how Wolf, the head roustabout, often patrolled the area in the evening before turning in. Just then, through the crowd, she recognized Wolf standing near the Ferris wheel, talking to one of the ride's operators.

"There he is," she said, surprised at the level of excitement in her voice.

Mary Margaret pointed out the older man, but Kwai Chang was already heading in Wolf's direction.

As they approached, the equipment containing Ferris wheel beside them exploded without warning. In a blinding blast of light and sound, it loosened the wheel from its base. Mary Margaret gaped at the sight. She could see the horror in the eyes of those on the ride and felt it clutch at her own heart as the monstrosity lurched forward. All she could do was gape in disbelief.

**oOoOoOoOo**

One moment Kwai Chang's world was engulfed in blinding light, the next he was on the ground with a paramedic relaying his vital signs to the hospital via a radio. Kwai Chang gasped as a wave of pain swept over him. He was injured, but he had suffered far worse injuries before. In fact, his own pain was nothing compared to the tide of agony and fear he felt emanating from those around him.

He opened his eyes to see pandemonium in the aftermath of the Ferris wheel's collapse. While Kwai Chang had been unconscious, the area had become filled with rescue personnel. Interspersed among the injured were policemen and fire fighters, along with several other paramedics.

Kwai Chang found himself momentarily distracted by some of the more frantic people in the area. Most were also injured, but now they were searching for their missing companions, shouting their names in a chorus of cries that blended into something completely indistinguishable.

Kwai Chang swallowed, and worked hard to push back his pain until it became more tolerable. He was weak and disoriented, with a rising frustration at his inability to concentrate, but everything became crystal clear when he remembered Mary Margaret and Wolf in the instant before the night went white with the destruction of the Ferris wheel.

Kwai Chang's already rapid heart rate jumped when he couldn't sense Mary Margaret's essence or Wolf's. He reached up, startling the EMT attending to him, and grabbed the man's shirt. "My friend, Mary Margaret, is she injured?"

The paramedic shook his head, dismissing Caine's question as his voice filled with compassion. "Easy, buddy. Lie back and let me do my job. I'm sure the others are looking after your friend, but there's just too much happening right now for me to go looking for her."

Kwai Chang pressed on, whispering hoarsely, "No, it is very important that we find her. She is a police detective and my friend. We must... "

Kwai Change started to rise, but then everything went dark.

The paramedic's voice broke through Kwai Chang's impending unconsciousness, disrupting it enough for Kwai Chang to cast off its dark grasp. Leaning closer to Kwai Chang, the EMT said, "Buddy, I understand you're worried about your friend, but we need to take care of your own injuries first. Okay? I promise to get someone looking after your police detective in a sec."

The paramedic quickly checked Kwai Chang's blood pressure, pulse, and breathing. The man didn't look pleased with the readings he got and he flashed a pen light into Kwai Chang's eyes, pausing for pupil reactions, as he asked, "Does any area of your body hurt more than another?"

Kwai Chang took a deep breath, channeling his _chi_ to begin the healing process, while trying to quiet the whispered warnings of danger echoing in his heart. They had to be silenced for the _qi gong _to work most effectively. Yet, the overwhelming urgency he felt overrode any attempts at healing he tried to do for himself.

The paramedic gently slapped his face a few times. "Hey, buddy, you still with me?"

Kwai Chang opened his eyes, trying to focus, but the blurred vision remained.

"What's your friend's name?" the paramedic asked, still trying to get his attention.

"Mary Margaret Skalany. A detective with the 101st precinct," Kwai Chang rasped.

"Okay, okay, that's good. Now, we got a name to look for. And what's your name?"

"I am Caine."

"Okay, Caine, talk to me about how you're doing. Dizzy, nauseated, or in pain? Anything like that?"

Finally, Kwai Chang felt a small increase in his meager strength and managed to sit up despite the paramedic's efforts to keep him down.

"I am fine," Kwai Chang said simply, "There are others who are more badly injured that you must attend to first. I shall find my friend myself."

The paramedic started to argue when another explosion rocked the area, followed by the total collapse of another nearby ride. The man automatically shielded Kwai Chang with his own body, but the blast knocked them both to the ground, hard.

Kwai Chang pushed the stunned paramedic lying on top of him off as carefully as possible and stood with amazing speed, considering his injuries. He was finally reaping the benefits of _qi gong_, his body's _chi_ facilitating the healing process.

The paramedic wasn't badly injured, merely stunned by the blast, so Kwai Chang stumbled deeper into the scene of destruction. The rescue workers around him, many now among the injured, began calling out for their partners. Other cries for assistance were shouted in a desperate attempt to be heard above everything else, but all was lost in the prevailing horror.

Kwai Chang tried to screen out the screams and focused solely on those closest to him. He came upon a husband holding his dead wife in his arms. Kwai Chang consoled the man, but the poor fellow was beyond reason. Kwai Chang had once known such devastation and bowed in prayer for his loss before he took a few more steps.

Two teenage girls were trying to revive a boy their age in a letterman's jacket. Kwai Chang went to them and was able to draw them away, handing the injured boy over to a newly arrived team of rescue workers. He held on tightly to the girls to keep them out of the way of the medical workers, willing peace and calmness into their near hysterical state of mind. Soon, he was able to pass them on to other firefighters who appeared on the scene.

Tears streamed down Kwai Chang's face. He was devastated by the tragedy of so many dead and so many injured. The fact he still couldn't detect anything from Mary Margaret or Wolf stole at his breath.

The paramedic who had been treating Kwai Chang earlier finally caught up to him, angry and frustrated that Kwai Chang had walked off without permission. Kwai Chang shrugged off the angry man's words. Instead, he knelt beside a sheet of aluminum torn off from the back of Ferris wheel's neon sign.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the paramedic shouted at Kwai Chang, but he stopped when Kwai Chang lifted the sheet enough for him to see an injured child lying beneath it.

"She is one of those more in need of your help," Kwai Chang said softly.

"Shit," the emergency medical worker cursed, glancing between Kwai Chang and the girl for a moment before he went to work. He checked her vitals, and then grabbed his hand mike.

"Cap, I've got a bleeder here. I need a boatload of help on the double!" he took a deep breath and revised his request. "And I need whoever you can spare ASAP."

The walkie-talkies all around them sang with nonstop chatter of requests and orders. The commander trying to organize the ensuing chaos, but it was a wasted effort, as futile as trying to manage a hurricane. There would be no quick fix to this disaster. It would be hours before most of the ongoing drama would truly under control.

The paramedic worked silently on the child as Kwai Chang leaned down, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder and closed his eyes. Those less knowledgeable might have thought Kwai Chang was praying for her, but others who really knew him knew he was sending the girl life-sustaining _chi _to strengthen her long enough for the emergency teams to do their work.

The paramedic had the girl stabilized and in an ambulance in less than fifteen minutes. In the ongoing madness, Kwai Chang avoided another confrontation with the medical technician by slipping away to aid others before the paramedic noticed he was gone.

Kwai Chang was still searching for Mary Margaret and Wolf while also watching for Freize. He almost expected the evil one to jump out and attack him. On further reflection, he realized Freize would never move against him in such an overt move.

So, instead, Kwai Chang simply went to those individuals who were close to death, if not found soon. Hope turned into despair as Kwai Chang found more victims dead than alive, and he paused every few steps to pray for another departed spirit.

His gaze swept around the area with growing worry as there was still no sign of Mary Margaret or Wolf.

"Where are you?" he whispered.

The question went ignored by the rest of the world, but it didn't stop him from continuing, "You should be here... "

Their absence was almost too hard to bear, knowing they should have been in the immediate area. Kwai Chang took another deep breath, turning his chi outward, searching with ebbing strength for the missing twosome. Suddenly, he dropped to his knees. There was a new source of danger, something so horrific and so intense, it felt like he was dying.

Kwai Chang's last word before unconsciousness claimed him was, "Peter."

**oOoOoOoOo**

The man cloaked by shadows stepped deeper into them as he watched the carnival's lights flame brighter than they'd ever been before – but now they were the flames of death, for both the carnie and those who had been foolish enough to be there at that moment.

He watched as the carnival went up in fiery explosions, one ride at a time. Something that he should have done long ago, he decided. He chuckled as he surveyed the dead and dying sprawled across the midway like spent soldiers in a war scene.

He inhaled the tantalizingly sweet life force of all the departing souls, feeding on their fears as they left this earthly realm. This was so much better than it had ever been in his carnival ride, mostly because he had been limited to one or two souls at time.

No, this was so much more fulfilling, but still it wasn't nearly enough to sate his hunger after his year-long fast and he still had much to do before he could exact his full revenge against those who had conspired to send him away.

So many things to do, so many deliciously evil things to begin. He sighed with relish, but the enjoyment quickly faded as he recalled how Kwai Chang Caine and his own brother, Wolf, had betrayed him, using the dust of their ancestors to destroy his wall of souls. They had cast him into an unspeakably ghastly prison, where he was then entrapped by the very souls he had held captive.

The climb out from the clutches of his spirit jailers was a long and torturous one, but he'd finally managed to escape. The time he'd spent healing and regaining his strength had seemed intolerable. The only thing that had sustained him was the dream of making Kwai Chang Caine his willing slave for all eternity.

"Yes, Caine and all those who thought they'd defeated me will scream in agony. I am going to enjoy every precious moment as long as possible, because it will please me to do so."

He had learned much on the other side of hell. Lessons he would apply to the eternal torture and torment of each of his victims. Secrets he could use against his enemies. Many dark and forbidden secrets. Soon, they would be secrets no more, but a reality for his victims to experience.

He licked his lips. "It is time to continue with my plan. Time to begin the end of all of those who worked against me. Time to begin my reign on earth as a true prince of evil. Yes, it is more than time."

And then he laughed maliciously as he stole away, still clinging to the shadows that protected him.

**oOoOoOoOo**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Peter was following Espinosa when Blake came over the radio, sounding pretty rattled. "Peter, something's going on at the fairgrounds. Something major. They are calling in units from all over the city, including police, fire and medical."

Peter froze, staring at Espinosa's back before he turned toward Blake's surveillance van parked across the street. His first thoughts were of Xenia and Inky, then of his father and Skalany, who were planning on spending the evening there, then he glanced back, watching Espinosa continue his trek through the empty cemetery.

Peter paused, trying to decide what was more crucial – taking a murderer off the streets before he could kill again or rushing to the fairgrounds to assist in a major catastrophe with countless other rescue workers.

"Peter, did you read me?"

"Yeah." He sighed, not knowing what else to say.

Blake seemed to understand, because he asked next, "Where are you now?"

Peter responded, finally deciding what to do. "East end. Ricardo's still on the move. And keep those reports on the fairgrounds coming. We should be done here any minute. Once we get Ricardo in handcuffs, we can head right over to the fair."

"Roger that. Right now, it's still just calls for assistance, but the damned thing sounds like a disaster response team's worst nightmare. With capacity crowds tonight, the number of dead could rise to triple digits."

Peter flinched at the numbers. Everything in him wanted to stop what he was doing and leave straight away. An owl hooted shrilly, startling both Peter and Ricardo. Ricardo suddenly changed directions and increase his pace.

Blake sounded troubled. "Peter, I still don't have him on any of the cameras. Where are you now?"

"He's going north now, rabbiting toward the oldest part of the cemetery. What the hell is he going there for? There wouldn't be any gang retaliation to do out there. Those graves are at least a hundred years old."

"Maybe he's shopping for some antiques... hold on, I'm checking my cameras in that area."

Peter didn't say anything. He just followed his man and ignored every fiber in his being that wanted to rush to the carnival. The disaster was strangely clear in Peter's mind's eye. He could see the injured and dying sprawled about like abandoned children's toys, but more strongly felt was the rampaging fear in so many people present there – just the way Doctor Freize would have liked it.

Freize. Peter's fists tightened at the thought of Doctor Freize, then he forced his tensed muscles to relax and slowly opened his fingers. It was stupid to get worked up over a man who had disappeared a year ago. Still, the mere mention of Dr. Freize caused a wave of apprehension to slide across Peter's soul, chilling him in the same way his body would react to a cobra slithering across his skin.

Blake's hushed voice in his ear piece now confirmed Peter's worst fears. "It's bad at the fair, Peter. They are sending in county units to assist. Maybe, we should – "

Despite his earlier internal debate, Peter didn't hesitate this time. "We stay, Blake. Ricardo's up to something. As soon as he stops, I'll grab him and we'll be on our way."

Blake's voice changed, growing suspicious. "Peter, we might have a trap in the makings. I can't detect any movement on my screens, yours included. The cameras may have been disabled while we were waiting around. That takes a pro. I'm coming out."

"No!" Peter responded, and then pulled back into the bushes for fear he might have spoken too loudly. In a forced whisper, Peter said, "Stay where you are. I'll call when I've got him in custody."

"I don't like this, Peter. I don't like it at all. I'm calling for backup."

"All the backup in the city is heading for the fairgrounds, Blake, and rightly so. We can handle this ourselves. We'll be out of here in ten minutes. Five, if I'm lucky."

Blake didn't respond, but he didn't have to. What was there left to say? Both men were worried about the disaster at the fair, but the scum bag who had shot Jody and killed three other women was within moments of being captured.

Peter stepped behind a huge oak and stood perfectly still when Ricardo paused, again looking over his shoulder before stopping in front of a mammoth marble mausoleum with the family name 'Henley' etched above its entrance. Ricard reached into an inner pocket and pulled out a set of keys and a flashlight.

With keys in hand, this must have been Espinosa's original destination from the onset.

Peter lingered behind the tree for another moment, intrigued with what Ricardo would be doing at the burial place of a man dead for over a hundred years. Half the city's parks and public buildings were named after the wealthy philanthropist, Everett Henley, in one way or another.

After trying several keys on the ring, Ricardo found the one that opened the wrought iron door to the mausoleum's entrance. That was Peter's cue to get moving. He started forward when Blake said, "It's been almost five minutes, Peter. What's going on there?"

Peter couldn't hide the confusion from his voice as he replied, "Hell if I know, Blake. We're at the Henley family mausoleum and Ricardo's got a key that opened the front door. Give me another minute to see what he's up to."

Peter slid behind some bushes for a better view of what was going on inside.

"Peter," Blake's voice was grim as he spoke now, "There are now confirmed reports of over one hundred dead at the fairgrounds.

"Shit," Peter whispered.

Once again, Peter had to force his personal emotions away in order to stay focused on his job. "Okay, Blake, I'm going in after Ricardo. We need to get this over and done with and get to the carnival ASAP."

"Roger that, Peter. I'm on my way as your backup and don't argue with me on this," Blake said sternly.

The man sounded like he was already moving. Peter didn't mind. Not really. There was something foreboding about the cemetery, even with the bright hunter's full moon. He pulled his Beretta from its holster, released the safety, and stepped into the mausoleum to make his arrest. He was almost to Espinosa who was at another door inside the inner chamber when Peter's whole being was shaken by two words that resounded in his heart and soul.

_*Peter, beware...*_

It was his father. Worse, it was his father speaking to him as if he was on the verge of collapse. Whatever was going on, his father was hurt and worried, but caring only for Peter's safety.

Peter whirled around, looking for his father's presence, but realized the sound was only in his head, using that special link that Caine shared with his son.

Ricardo had caught the movement from one side and was in the process of whirling around when he saw Peter. He was already in the process of pulling a gun.

"Shit," Peter muttered, then he put one hand forward, stopping in place as he shouted, "Police! It's over, Ricardo. You're going to jail!"

Ricardo's face tightened into a dark grimace and Peter could tell from the glint in his eyes that the young man was going to try and shoot his way out.

"Hold on," Peter said calmly, "That would be a really stupid move on your part, Ricardo. Shoot-outs only work in the movies. Trust me, I didn't get my sharpshooter certification just to let punks like you put holes into me. Give it up. I'll let the DA's office know you cooperated. It might help."

"Cooperate, my ass, cop," Ricardo hissed.

"Easy, Ricardo," Peter said in the same calm tone as he stared into Ricardo's eyes, knowing full well this idiot wasn't going to play it nice and easy. It was going to be a battle every step of the way.

Unfortunately for Peter, he was way too exposed.

"Hang on, Peter," Blake said breathlessly as he ran.

One of Ricardo's eyes twitched and Peter knew a showdown was imminent. "Stupid punk," Peter whispered and examined his options.

The only way he figured he could stop Ricardo without just shooting him first was to charge the man, hoping to distract him before he could fire, praying that the kid would not expect such an asinine move from a cop.

Peter was about two steps away from Ricardo before he realized he wouldn't make it in time. Another step allowed him to calculate that the frightened teen wouldn't be able to aim properly for a killing shot, though he might still get in a good hit, one Peter would have rather avoided if possible.

Peter howled like a banshee, filling the room with enough sound he hoped would stun Ricardo. It worked for a moment, but as Peter was in a midair tackle, Ricardo fired.

Peter felt the burning pain in his side and grunted just as he hit Ricardo with his body. The two of them fell through the door that Ricardo had just opened, leaving the crypt's chapel, and they crashed through another door, leading down into the main crypt's chamber itself.

The two men tumbled down the stairs with Ricardo's flashlight lending a bouncing surreal feel to the skirmish. They landed on the ground with a thud, raising a cloud of dust with their impact. Ricardo was on top of the injured Peter and neither man moved for several long moments.

Peter was close to unconsciousness and his breaths came in ragged gasps. The settling dust threw Peter into a fit of coughing which aggravated his wound. Finally, he pushed the still stunned Espinosa off of him and Peter rolled onto his side.

Unable to locate his Beretta, presumably lost in the fall, Peter went to Plan B. He held his bleeding wound with one hand as he lay on the ground while his other went to his ankle holster and he removed the small caliber weapon hidden there.

With his gun sighted on Ricardo's forehead, he spoke in a hoarse but intimidating tone, "You've really screwed up this time, Ricardo. Killing three hookers, and shooting two cops. It's not gonna look too good on your resume, and especially not good in front of a judge. Get on your feet. We're getting out of here, now."

Over his earpiece, he heard Blake shouting into his cell phone. "We need backup now. Following armed suspect. Shots fired. My partner may be injured. There are two plainclothes detectives on the scene. Send units immediately!"

Help was on its way. Peter just had to stay conscious long enough to keep Ricardo from escaping. He wiped at his sweaty forehead while Ricardo stood and stumbled to one side, allowing Peter some distance.

"Hey, cop, I didn't mean to shoot you. You attacked me in the dead of night in a cemetery. What's a guy supposed to do? You know, it was self-defense kind of stuff."

"Yeah, yeah, I don't want to hear your whining excuses. Now, put your hands against that back wall and stay in that position while I get up. If you move the wrong way, I'll shoot and I promise you I'm a much better shot than you are."

Ricardo nervously complied, but he muttered to himself as Peter tried to gather enough strength to stand. "I – I was only supposed to lead the cop here. That dude was supposed to be waiting here for us. Where's the man anyway?" He sighed before he added, "What the hell is going on?"

Peter agreed with Espinosa as he listened to the teen's rambling. _*Yeah, what the hell is going on here? And what 'dude' is he talking about?*_

Meanwhile, Ricardo slowed as he got to the wall. He squinted with the sparse light from the flashlight and asked in a puzzled tone, "What's all this shit on the floor? It's all crunchy. Weird stuff."

Peter paid little attention to the kid as he rolled onto his knees, holding one hand tight against his wound. The gunshot injury wasn't a bad one, but it still hurt like hell. And he'd have to move fast to restrain Ricardo before he faded out completely. Luckily, Blake should be arriving at any moment.

Right on cue, he heard Blake pounding on the door.

_*How the hell did that door get closed?* _Peter wondered, cursing under his breath as he realized he'd have to handcuff Ricardo, and then climb the stairs to let Blake in.

"Peter, what's going on in there? Are you okay?" Blake sounded out of breath.

"Yeah, Blake, I'm fine. We must have... done something to the door... when we crashed through it. Gotta handcuff the perp, and I'll help with it."

"Pete, are you sure you're okay? You don't sound good. I heard shots fired."

Peter coughed again, and hissed as he held his side. "Chill, Blake... one lucky shot, lots of echoes... and a hell of a lot of dust. Hold on."

Peter managed to get to his feet, though he swayed when he first stood up. Taking a couple deep breaths, he started toward Ricardo, moving the hand from his wound to his pocket with the handcuffs in it. He passed the flashlight lying on the ground and stopped in his tracks.

The ray of light revealed fragments of bones on the ground – bones large enough to be human, but they were only charred remains. And what he had thought to be dirt had to be human ashes. Luckily, Ricardo hadn't figured that out yet, or he'd be screaming to high heaven. Peter didn't say a word as he pulled Ricardo's arms behind him and locked the handcuffs in place.

"Don't move a muscle," Peter mumbled as he turned to help Blake who was still pounding on the door at the top of the stairs.

As he passed the flashlight, Peter bent to pick it up, and took a closer look at the underground room. It was a large room, probably fifteen-by-fifteen feet long, and from one end to the other, it was littered with the ashes and bones.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to think about just how many must have perished there. Peter started moving and reached the first step. As he lifted his leg to go up the stairs, the motion caused the searing pain in his side to flame more brightly.

"Dammit," Peter gasped, holding his side as he tried to recover from the wave of dizziness and weakness that accompanied the pain.

He started to sway, then Blake's voice caused him to jump violently and Peter realized how his attention had wandered. "Peter?"

"I'm okay, Blake, but you better get forensics over here. I've just discovered the ashen remains of several people down here. And I'm not talking mainstream cremation."

Peter could hear Blake do as he requested as he pulled himself up the stairs, using the wrought iron railing along the wall. The air felt like it was getting thin by the time he reached the top of the stairs, or maybe it was his wound that was stealing air from his lungs.

Peter leaned against the wall behind him as he surveyed the door with the flashlight. There didn't seem to be any problem that he could see at first glance, but then he remembered hitting Ricardo pretty hard before they'd tumbled down the stairs. "It looks okay, Blake," he said. "What about on your side?"

As he examined the door more closely, he saw there was significant damage to the door lock and to the frame. "It looks okay here, too, but the damned thing won't open."

Peter tried the door handle. It wouldn't open for him, either. It might take some additional help, like a crowbar to open it up. As he heard Blake jiggling the handle again, Peter felt a chill go up his spine and he went rigid.

He realized Ricardo hadn't said a word since Peter had handcuffed him. For a punk like Ricardo, that was pretty damned strange. Peter spun around, flashing the light in Ricardo's direction and nearly dropped the thing from shock.

Ricardo was hovering in midair, surrounded by countless ghostly specters. Peter began to hobble back down the stairs, holding just as tightly to the hand rail as he was to his bleeding side. He shouted to Blake via the ear piece, "Blake, get that fucking door open any way you can. We just hit a whole new level of trouble down here!"

As Blake barraged him with questions Peter didn't listen to, he remembered his father's warning minutes before, though now it seemed like hours ago. His father had told him to beware. At the time, he wondered what the hell he was supposed to be wary of. Now, he knew.

There was a blast of ice cold air that nearly froze Peter in his tracks. The spectral maelstrom spun faster and fast, and it prevented him from getting closer. What was worse, the swirl of cold air pushing against him continued to gain speed until it reached gale force, and all Peter could do was watch helplessly.

Ricardo, still in his handcuffs, was praying aloud with tears streaming down his face as he hovered vertically about ten feet from the ground. The ghosts seemed almost indistinguishable as they swirled past the Hispanic teen with incredible speed. A virtual vortex of spirits formed into a single entity with a multitude of whispering voices.

Peter couldn't just watch it play out before him, somehow knowing the kid's death was mere seconds away. He forced himself forward, using the wall as a buttress, so that he could maintain his balance.

The whirlwind's strength was tremendous now. Peter struggled to make any headway against it. The bullet wound in his side, which hadn't seemed that bad initially, was reacting badly to the exertion and he could feel blood seeping down to the thigh area of his jeans.

As he struggled harder to move, Peter was hit with another wave of lightheadedness and weakness. He knew what these symptoms meant, but he was opting to ignore them for the present time. Something had to be done or Ricardo Espinosa would be tried, convicted, and put to death by the most unearthly judge, jury, and executioner ever seen.

"Stop this!" Peter shouted, screaming as loud as possible to be heard above the roar of the wind and the growing chorus of barely discernible voices.

As he listened to the voices, he could pick up fragments of words, spoken in Chinese, but nothing that made enough sense to help him or Ricardo.

So, Peter tried repeating the same phrases in Chinese and got a reaction. The winds slowed down and the figures became more detailed in appearance. He could make out individual forms within the swirling mass. There were dozens of them, men and women in all different ages. Some well dressed, others in rags, but all of them were ghosts, spirits of personalities deceased long ago.

Peter shivered involuntarily as they focused their attention on him, but he continued speaking in Chinese, though his voice quivered from the ongoing physical and emotional strain.

_*Please, honorable ancestors, I humbly beg you to release this man. We will leave without disturbing you further.*_

Three of the figures detached from their brethren and floated closer to him. It took all Peter could do not to recoil in fear. With great effort, he bent forward, holding his side tightly, to offer them a bow of a respect.

_*You should not be here,*_ the oldest, most distinguished appearing of the three said in his native tongue.

_*We will leave, I promise. We meant no disrespect in coming here. It was an accident.*_

The older ghost grunted, as if disbelieving. _*An accident? Like the 'accident' that claimed our lives? We will trust____no longer! Now, we seek eternal retribution against all who live in the land of our murderer. Our sponsor has shown us many ways to achieve that retribution.*_

The wind started up again, going much faster than before. Ricardo cried out as cuts started appearing on his body.

_*Stop! Please, stop this!*_ Peter implored in Chinese. _*This man is only guilty of trespass, of violating your burial place. Please, release him.*_

_*He was tainted with the stench of our sponsor. And now you are bound to our plight irretrievably for all eternity.*_

The ghost only laughed maliciously, and then tossed a translucent hand in Peter's direction, as if to dismiss a lowly servant. The simple motion caused Peter to fly up the stairs with incredible speed, and he hit the door at the top of the stairs hard enough to knock the breath from him.

Peter crumpled onto the landing, and found himself scrambling to keep from falling down the stairs, despite his semiconscious state. He struggled to catch his breath as the edges of his vision clouded. He felt his consciousness slipping away, but then Ricardo's screams pulled him back.

"Help me, cop! Help me! They are killing me!"

The frantic pleas could not go ignored. After all, the panic and fear of a fellow human being, even one as unworthy as Espinosa, simply couldn't go unheeded. Too much of Peter's temple training and his training as a cop couldn't allow it. With the decision to act, Peter's own fears were suddenly diminished.

Peter pushed himself back to his feet, slipping his elbow into the gap between the railing and the wall, using it as leverage to help him descend the stairs. He wiped the back of his hand across his nose and found blood there, too. He could also taste it in the back of his throat.

The force of his collision with the door had knocked Peter's earpiece loose from his ear. Now, it was dangling from his shirt collar, but Peter knew without listening that Blake was going crazy behind that blocked door.

Peter grunted as he viewed the horrific scene, thinking perhaps he was the one who had gone crazy – because what he was viewing went beyond description and bordered on impossible. Yet, there it was, happening right in front of him.

Ricardo's screams had become more pain-filled with the ongoing slashing and his clothes were now ripped into tattered shreds. Peter had no idea how he was going to save the kid. No idea at all, but that fact didn't stop him from plunging back into the windstorm.

**oOoOoOoOo**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Your friends think you are dead," was the first thing Mary Margaret heard as she awoke.

"In fact, many _are_ dead, and many more are missing. And it is all due to me. Consider it my calling card to let the world know that I'm back again. As for those others who are missing, but not yet dead, I'll use them for entertainment once I tire of tormenting the two of you."

Mary Margaret tried to open her eyes, but she was still too close to unconsciousness. The man's voice sounded very familiar and she knew she was afraid of him without knowing for sure who he was. Primal instinct told her to beware of him, even without his obvious threats.

She heard a groan beside her and remembered the voice said something about _'the two of you'_. She was successful this time and able to turn her head toward the groan. When she opened her eyes, she expected to see Caine beside her, but it was Wolf. One more glance beyond him told her it was Doctor Freize who held them captive.

Wolf shook his head in anger, staring daggers at his brother. Gauging by the nonverbal interaction, Mary Margaret suspected there was very little family affection between the two.

"What have you done this time, brother?" Wolf growled his question, but Freize merely leaned against the wall behind him and shrugged.

Mary Margaret blinked a few more times and started to get a sense of where they were being held. The place was dark and foreboding. It echoed like a warehouse or something similar. It was cold and lonely there, as if the place hadn't had human contact in a very long time – or at least humans who were alive.

There was a strange repeating noise and Mary Margaret realized there were several large frogs in the room, croaking on a regular basis, but these frogs were unlike any Mary Margaret had seen before. Their eyes glowed yellow in the dim light and had slight horns on their heads – and she swore she could almost sense evil itself radiating from them.

"Ah, I see my other guest has awakened. Welcome, Mary Margaret. Do you like my friends? Frogs have been friends of my family for centuries – especially this variety, which were bred for my specific needs. Familiars, they are called to those knowledgeable with witchcraft and warlocks. They shall keep you company while I am away."

He grinned and the sheer darkness in his smile clutched at Mary Margaret's heart.

"The fun should begin very soon, my dear," he murmured quietly.

Mary Margaret gave Freize her best glare and whispered, "I don't know what you're up to, buddy, but you're in a whole world of trouble."

Freize's smile broadened, but there was no warmth to his expression whatsoever. "Oh, you mean the carnival explosions? That little thing? It was nothing really. Nothing in comparison to what is to come."

"Is that right? Well, you can just go to hell."

Freize's expression clearly reflected his black heart as he leaned closer to Mary Margaret and whispered in her ear, "I've already been there and back. Trust me, it's not a place for a woman like you. It's not a place for any soul who once walked this earth."

For a moment, Freize seemed to get lost in his dark memories and he pulled away, taking a few paces before he stopped. With the added distance between them, Mary Margaret released a slow breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, then she shifted without meaning to and gasped in pain. Her injuries had been blessedly quiet when she first awakened, but now her ankle throbbed with a vengeance and she didn't need to move it to know it was broken.

She glanced over at Wolf, who was also lying on the ground and bound with rope as she was. He looked mad enough to explode. He, too, had injuries. Blood covered a good portion of his left side and he was breathing with some difficulty. She guessed he either had a chest wound or broken ribs.

Without warning, Freize seemed to regroup and his voice was sugary sweet as he said, "Come, come, Mary Margaret, it is very unladylike to use such vile language. I am on a path of vengeance, a holy mission of sorts, so I stole my brother and you away from the chaos at the carnie. I took my brother, because he betrayed me and I took you, because you are Caine's lady, so please rise to accommodate your vaulted position – at least, for as long as you remain alive."

Mary Margaret's nerves had been on edge ever since she had first awakened. Now, she held her breath as she eyed her captor closely. "You – you did all that, just to kidnap us? Why?"

Wolf answered for Freize, vehemence dripping from each of his spoken words, "Because we are the bait to capture Caine."

One of the frogs sitting beside Wolf croaked again, and then it spat out a short stream of liquid that caught Wolf across one cheek. Wolf screamed in obvious agony and Mary Margaret was horrified to see the flesh burning where it had hit, along with the acrid smell of acid.

"Be careful, my pets. These are fragile beings." Freize cautioned the frogs with mock concern, then again he smiled with an evil glint. "You are correct, my brother. You and the lady are bait. And when I have Caine and his son, the real fun will begin."

Mary Margaret swallowed hard. There were hundreds of these frogs surrounding them and their danger was great, but her mushrooming fear went far beyond them. She knew with certainty Caine's punishment would be the worst of all.

As if reading her thoughts, Freize knelt down beside her and drew a finger down her jaw. "You are right to fear for him. I have had encounters with Kwai Chang Caine in the past and lost, but not this time. We have unfinished business, he and I. Much unfinished business. But, you see, this time I shall hold all the winning cards and Caine shall become mine."

"No," Mary Margaret managed to whisper.

Dr. Freize merely chuckled as he stood. He turned to face a small man who Mary Margaret hadn't noticed earlier. It seemed he was waiting for Freize, but his movements were frenetic, as if panicked and he paced beside the door awaiting Freize's summons.

The man seemed vaguely familiar, as if she'd seen him when the carnival was in town last year, but her thoughts were too muddled to come up his name or identity.

Freize turned to the man. "Well?"

The younger man wrung his hands together and shook his head. "No, Doctor Freize, I don't have them. I've looked everywhere and I can't find them. They weren't where they were supposed to be. They just weren't where they were supposed to be."

Freize's smile turned into an angry frown.

The nervous man automatically grasped at his throat, as if unable to breathe. "Please, Doctor Freize, it wasn't my fault. They weren't where they – "

"Were supposed to be. Yes, yes, I know, you already stated that fact. I am most displeased with you, Randy. Most displeased. You had better be successful on your next venture or I shall have to punish you. You don't like it when I punish you, do you, Randy?"

The young man went white with terror and he held his hands around his throat in self-protection as he gasped for air. "No, no, Doctor Freize, I don't like it. I really don't like it."

Freize flicked his hand and released his servant. The man Freize had called Randy fell to the ground, landing on his knees. He took in huge gasps of air, but never looked directly at Freize, keeping his gaze downcast.

Mary Margaret's gaze narrowed when she finally recognized Randy. He was the roustabout who had given Xenia and Peter such a hard time last year. The man should still be serving time in prison for his complicity in Freize's escapades.

She bit her lip as she saw time hadn't been kind to the young man. He'd lost a great deal of weight, mostly muscle, along with developing a nervous tic whenever Freize watched him for more than a couple of seconds. It was apparent Randy had suffered much for failing Freize in the past.

That thought made her worry for Peter and Caine grow. She looked to Wolf again, realizing he'd gone silent. She tried to catch his attention, knowing he had to be in a tremendous amount of pain, if the man was even still conscious.

Freize laughed as he walked past his cowering assistant, heading into the open doorway. "Come, Randy, it's time to unleash more evil, but first we shall check on Peter and the host of vengeful ghosts he's undoubtedly released by now."

The door slammed shut behind them and its lock was activated to seal them inside. Mary Margaret looked around their temporary prison. Though darkness pervaded every corner, she began to make out the shapes of other unconscious bodies, probably those stolen from the circus catastrophe. Freize's words came back to her – that there would be others who would entertain him once he had bored himself with Mary Margaret and Wolf.

She swallowed back fear for the others and for herself, and called to Wolf, but the man's head hung down limply, apparently unconscious. Realizing she was alone at the moment, a swell of tears threatened to fall down Mary Margaret's cheeks.

Now, alone in the darkness, the frogs' eyes seemed to frighten her even more and their constant croaking was a reminder of more trouble to come. She was so dizzy and felt her consciousness slipping away. Before she passed out, though, she had to do something to help Caine.

Focusing all of her attention on Caine, she thought, _*Caine, Freize is coming for you and Peter!*_

She felt a flickering of a response, never really knowing for sure if he'd heard her or not. She prayed he had. Caine had said he was in grave danger before the carnival went up in smoke, but did he realize the depth of that danger and that Peter was also involved?

She had no answers as darkness finally claimed her. She only hoped that Caine would find a way to escape safely from this threat with Peter. As for herself and Wolf, she wasn't so sure they'd survive.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Kwai Chang was distantly aware of loud voices, the clattering of instruments and machinery, and the cries of injured or frightened people. There were individuals near death all around him, surrounded by others fighting hard to keep them alive, but sadly it seemed the odds were in death's favor.

A team of doctors and nurses rushed by. When Kwai Change opened his eyes and looked up, he saw Xenia and Inky, his old friends, but they hadn't noticed him. They were still watching the disappearing mass of medical personnel and their patient.

Inky shook his head. "That was Petrov, honey. I heard the doc talking earlier. He's in a bad way. They might lose him."

"I know." Xenia's head bowed as she struggled with her emotions. "It's so awful, Inky. So many... "

Inky put his arm around his daughter's waist and held her. "Just be grateful that your gifts alerted us just in time to be away from where we'd planned to be or else, we might be in need of medical treatment ourselves... or worse."

Xenia started to smile at her father's encouragement, but faltered. "I should have sensed it earlier. Maybe I could have saved..."

"Don't go second guessing yourself, Xenia."

Her father's words didn't seem to ease her guilt. She wiped away tears, only to have more appear. "There's so much danger around everyone I can think of... I just wish I knew how to protect them."

"Well, you saved our lives, honey. That's for sure and for certain."

Inky sighed with the weight of the night's disaster. His voice was barely above a whisper when he added, "But it's the end of this carnie, honey. Julian, the patron saint of carnival workers everywhere, turned his back on us this time. I guess I'll be moving to Florida to retire early and you'll be heading back to go back to school to finish getting your degree. "

Xenia shivered with her father's comments. "Oh, Inky, I just can't imagine you not working at a carnie. It can't be true that this is the end of it..."

Kwai Chang reached forward, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "If not the end of all we know and love..." he whispered.

"Freize," Kwai Chang said bitterly, his thoughts flashing with the frightening memories from the fairgrounds.

"Yes," Xenia said with a sharp exhalation.

Kwai Chang started to sit up from his gurney positioned in the narrow hallway of the emergency department of the hospital. Apparently, he had been through the triage process and was deemed to not be among the most seriously injured.

His own injuries were the last of his concerns. There was something it seemed he was forgetting. He took a deep breath, trying to center himself. It was something of vital importance –

"Peter!" he gasped as he crumpled back to the gurney. Squeezing his eyes shut, he focused on Peter. The images he got in return for his efforts were dismal at the best. Kwai Chang knew in his heart that Peter was fighting for his life. He tried to send his injured son more strength, but he was too weak himself to lend Peter much assistance.

Kwai Chang felt a gentle hand upon his arm and looked to see Xenia and her father, still standing beside him. "Peter... " Kwai Chang whispered, "I must get to Peter."

Xenia nodded with tears in her eyes. "I know, but first we must take care of you. You must be stronger in order to find where Peter and your other friends are."

There was a swell of hope as he remembered Xenia's special gift of sensing current and even future events.

"We must go now." Kwai Chang said with a shake of his head, "Xenia, Inky, please help me."

The two carnies didn't move, so Kwai Chang reached out toward him. "Peter... he's at the cemetery and he's under attack."

"What cemetery, Caine?" Inky asked.

Kwai Chang started to speak as he attempted to sit up again, but before he could say anything, the room started spinning around him and unconsciousness claimed him once more before he could reply.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Blake's repeated attempts to get through the jammed door of the mausoleum kept failing. To make matters worse, as he struggled with the door, he could hear all sorts of mayhem going on inside.

Blake put his ear to the door, only to hear Espinosa's screams rise to a horrifying level. Peter's voice seemed distant as if lost in a windstorm, then as he listened, it became suddenly strong again as the wind's intensity inexplicably quelled.

Blake froze as he heard other voices speaking in Chinese with an eerie, otherworldly quality to them. There was something frightening in the words he couldn't understand that spurred him to search for a lever to force the door open. He spun around, remembering he had almost tripped over a metal object as he first ran into the chapel.

He backed up the stairs and hurriedly searched the dark mausoleum with his flashlight. Within moments, he found the metal bar he'd remembered seeing. The thing wasn't very long, but it was sturdy.

Back at the door, he began to pry open the blocked door when suddenly the door blew open on its own accord. The gust of wind that came with it was strong enough to knock Blake back several steps and he had to hold onto the wall for balance. That was until a body collided with him with enough force to knock both of them to the ground hard.

Unfortunately, Blake took the brunt of the fall. He felt a rib snap and he groaned as the body's crushing weight landed atop him, but he didn't dwell long on his physical pain, because as he looked up, Blake could see a kaleidoscope of colored lights and sound rush over him in the form of ghostly apparitions. They passed slowly, each of them brushing by the body beside him, as if memorizing the man lying there, and then they streamed out of the mausoleum and into the night sky.

Blake lay gasping for air, stunned by what he had just witnessed, and then he looked at the body beside him. Even in the dim lighting, he could tell it was Peter, battered and bloodied. Blake reached out and found a pulse, and he bit his lip in relief.

Peter moaned in pain just then, caught in a semiconscious state, leaving Blake to wonder just what had occurred in that locked room.

Finally, the sound of a siren coming in their direction shook Blake out of his stunned state. He gently tapped Peter on the cheek, trying to get his attention, but Peter was beyond that. He kept mumbling words Blake couldn't make out, but Blake was far more worried with the flow of blood from Peter's wounds than he was in talking.

As he administered first aid to his friend, he noticed a thin, grimy layer of ashes covering Peter's body. "What the... " Blake sat back, staring at his friend.

The gray powder mixed with the bloody trails that had painted Peter's body creating a ghastly muddy gray... or maybe that gray look was from blood loss?

Blake blinked, and the mystery of the strange ash was pushed to the back of his thoughts to be brought out later when he had more time. Right now, Peter needed his help.

Blake wiped his hands on his pants and got to work.

**oOoOoOoOo**

**Chapter 3**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Blake sat beside Peter and the paramedic in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. The siren screaming above them disconcerted Blake, somehow reminding him of the departing chorus of spirits as they passed over him earlier. Shuddering inwardly, he pushed away the memory and looked down at Peter. The young man looked bad – really bad. Blake could almost hear Peter's father speaking inside his head, saying there was more involved with Peter than simple physical injury.

Clasping his hands together, Blake knew his imagined Caine was right. Something horrible had happened in that lower level of the mausoleum, something that had the potential to leave permanent scars on the soul.

"Ah, hell, what am I thinking? I'm no priest – I don't know about stuff like that," Blake muttered as one hand wrapped around his aching ribs. He'd suffered broken ribs before and he was sure there were at least two broken, if not more, but his injury seemed minor compared to what Peter had endured.

Reaching forward, Blake touched Peter's deathly pale skin, and it was like touching ice. Blake felt a hand upon his and glanced up to see the female paramedic watching him closely.

Unable to endure her worried gaze, he stammered, "He's going to be okay, isn't he?"

The woman glanced back down at Peter and smiled as she patted his hand once more before removing it. "Your friend's injuries are serious, but not life-threatening. You really need to relax. You have injuries of your own that need to be seen to."

Blake shook his head. "No, not until I know Peter is all right. Not until I talk to his father."

The woman took a deep breath and let it out slowly before returning to her duties. "Your friend will be in surgery and then in recovery before you know it."

Blake smiled wanly and nodded, but his eyes never left Peter. The paramedic added, "If it helps, this hospital has a very good chaplain."

Blake felt his expression scrunch in confusion, she explained, "I heard you mentioning something about a priest earlier."

Blake cleared his throat, embarrassed that he might have let some of his private thoughts escape aloud. "Oh yeah, that's right. Thanks."

Just then, Blake's cell phone rang, startling him. He fumbled for the phone in his jacket pocket and pressed a button to activate it. "Blake."

"I leave town for a few weeks and all hell breaks loose?"

Blake couldn't help but smile at the voice on the other end of the line. "Interesting choice of words, Kermit. Where are you, my friend?"

"At the ER waiting for you. I heard about the explosions at the fairground and called the precinct. Broderick told me that you and Peter went after the joker who shot Jody, but that things got a little dicey at the end. How's the kid doing?"

Blake glanced down at Peter and wiped a shaky hand across his mouth. "He's not good, that's for sure."

"You in route to Mercy General?"

"Yeah, pulling in now."

"I'll meet you there."

"Roger."

Blake put away his phone. For the first time since he'd heard the gunfire start at the cemetery, Blake felt better about their situation. He wiped at the pale gray dust covering his hands and Peter's body. It seemed to cling much more than ordinary dust, but then he now knew this wasn't ordinary dust. No, not at all. The first responders on the scene said it was probably human ashes. The very thought made Blake's stomach churn, but he had seen much worse over the course of his career. Unfortunately, he suspected this living nightmare was far from over – mainly because of the two words he could make out from Peter's semiconscious mumbling.

_"Doctor Freize." _

Memories of the horrors his fellow detectives recounted last year at the carnival cascaded across Blake's thoughts, but he didn't have long to dwell on Freize. The ambulance parked in the emergency department's driveway and Kermit was waiting there for them. The paramedics and hospital staff wheeled Peter inside, but the two detectives remained outside watching until Peter was out of sight.

Kermit turned to Blake. "You're right. He doesn't look good."

Blake nodded. "It's not the bullet wound or the blood loss I'm worried about. Something happened down there – something that viciously attacked and killed Ricardo Espinosa, and nearly killed Peter in the process."

"Then, that's where we start," Kermit said.

Blake stood on the brightly-lit driveway for a moment, still staring in Peter's direction, ignorant of all the hubbub going on around them. The area was overflowing with rescue personal, victims from the carnival catastrophe, and their friends and family.

Blake stared at the door as it closed behind Peter's entourage until he heard his name being called and turned toward Kermit. Just then, his horizon tilted.

"Whoa, Blake, looks like someone else is in need of some medical attention." Kermit grunted as he caught Blake and helped steady him. "Come on, let's get you inside. I can check out the cemetery by myself."

Blake clutched Kermit's arm. "Don't go out there, Kermit. The only thing you'll find there is death. Don't go out there."

Kermit nodded and he let Kermit steer him through the wide double doors. Kermit said, "Don't worry about it. I'll stick around long enough to make sure you and Peter are in good shape before I go. Besides, I have my laptop. I'll do the background research we'll need while I wait for you two to be tended to."

Blake nodded, and then slumped into Kermit's arms. Kermit managed to get Blake a few more steps before he called, "Is there a doctor in the house?"

A beleaguered orderly heard the call and brought a wheelchair for Blake. Blake collapsed into the chair before he passed out. "Ya gotta take a number around here at the moment, buddy. They are still doing triage on the folks from that fairground explosion."

For the first time, Kermit noticed the full scope of the chaos around him. Every available space was filled with injured people.

"Shit," Kermit muttered, wanting to help, but he knew there was nothing he could do, except nail the creep behind this nightmare.

"You said it," the orderly muttered as he pushed an unconscious Blake to be next in line. "I think we're gonna be up to our armpits in manure for days to come."

"Hold up a sec," Kermit said as he reached into his trench coat. He scribbled some information on the back of one of his business cards and added a fifty dollar bill to it as he handed the card and money to the orderly.

"Here's my cell phone number. I've written two names on the card. This man, Detective Blake, and our fellow partner, Detective Peter Caine, are both being treated here. If you could notify me of any change in their condition, I'd greatly appreciate it."

The orderly taped Kermit's card to Blake's lapel with some adhesive tape and pocketed the fifty. "I'll do my best, but it's crazy here right now and probably will be all night. Why don't you just check back with the front desk in a few hours?"

He wheeled Blake away without another word. Kermit stood there, his anger rising until he pushed it back down. Anger at situations beyond his control was a total waste of time. Instead, he could be much more efficient by firing up his laptop in one of the hospital's more quiet locations.

As he headed toward his lime-green Corvair to get his laptop, Kermit rubbed at some gray dust on his hands. He must have gotten it from Blake when he collapsed. No matter how hard Kermit rubbed, the stuff stubbornly remained. Once he got his laptop out of the car, he'd have to find a bathroom to wash up.

**~oOoOoOoOo~**

An hour later, Kermit hadn't made much progress. There was nothing in Everett Henley's past history that would indicate some dark hidden secret, but then Kermit knew from personal experience the darkest secrets often remained hidden until they were forced into the light of day.

Everett Henley didn't seem to be the kind of the man who was familiar with bigotry. In fact, he assisted in bringing the Chinese to the area to help work on building his railroad through his area, often bestowing gifts to those who worked exceedingly hard on his projects. At least, that was at the beginning. Later on, any references by him of the Chinese in the local papers were few.

After checking at the front desk for news on Blake and Peter, Kermit called into the precinct. Kermit waited a moment before Karen answered the line.

"Simms," she said curtly.

"Hello, beautiful."

There was a change in her tone as she recognized Kermit's voice. "Kermit? I thought you were going to be gone for a few more days."

"So did I, but fate had other ideas. I'm at Mercy General. They ran some tests on Blake and have him under observation. Peter just went into surgery. Is there anyone available to give me a hand at the cemetery? I plan on going over there after Peter gets out of surgery."

Karen grunted sarcastically. "Most of my staff has been tied up with this fairgrounds incident. In fact, I have Skalany listed among the missing. With Blake out, too – "

Kermit didn't have time for niceties. "Got it. Don't worry about it, I can handle things myself."

Before Karen could respond, Kermit could hear someone interrupting Karen's half of the conversation, then he heard her curse under her breath. Somehow, he knew things had just gone from bad to worse.

"Kermit, Mercy General is close to Blyfield cemetery, right? I have a problem. The forensics team I sent out to the cemetery just called in. Apparently, they reported being under attack before the line went silent. I've got units rolling, and Frank's on his way, but I'd feel better having a second experienced man out there. May I call upon you to – "

"I'm on my way," Kermit replied briskly, loading up his laptop. "I'll call in when I get there."

"Just watch yourself. We still don't know who is behind these attacks."

"Who – or what?"

"I beg your pardon?" Karen asked.

"Nothing," Kermit replied cryptically, "I'll be in touch."

"Thanks, Kermit, and be careful."

Kermit was about to leave when he heard someone screaming down the hospital corridor. He spun in that direction, mostly because Blake was being treated in that area. He started running without knowing why, but something deep inside told him to follow the screams.

Most of those already in the area were trampling each other in a frantic haste to escape and Kermit had to push his way to get through the crowd. What he found once he was past them made him stop in his tracks. Blake was suspended in midair by unseen forces that had generated a whirlwind whipping around him.

Kermit dropped his gear and ran closer to help Blake, who was semiconscious, but a gust of cold air sent Kermit tumbling backward. A set of strong hands kept Kermit from falling any further.

When Kermit glanced back, he was surprised to see the Ancient holding him up. "Lo Si, what the hell is going on here?"

Before Lo Si could respond, most of the overheard lighting went out in a blast of exploding fluorescent bulbs, but the swirling glow of spirits surrounding Blake was more than enough to illuminate Lo Si's grim expression.

The old man said, "Evil has been unleashed, my friend. And if we do not act quickly, the evil will result in many more deaths."

Kermit was about to ask Lo Si to explain what he meant when Blake cried out. Long jagged cuts began appearing on his body. Lo Si moved away from Kermit and held up a large jade medallion toward the spirits. Speaking in Chinese, Lo Si used a commanding tone, but then tempered it with compassion.

Kermit had no idea what the Ancient was saying to them in Chinese, but whatever it was, it worked. Within moments, Blake dropped to the ground and the spirits vanished.

In the stillness that followed, Kermit rushed to Blake's side, worried by the numerous cuts now covering his friend's body, but at least they didn't appear to be deep cuts.

Lo Si came beside them, also checking on the older detective. "Your friend will survive, but he would not have if we had not been present."

Kermit looked from Blake to the Ancient in awed disbelief. "_'We'_? There was no 'we' about it. You did this. You saved him. I was just standing here, gawking like some idiot."

Lo Si smiled and put a hand on Kermit's arm. "Yes, but I drew from your strength, perhaps without you knowing it."

Kermit took a deep breath and held it a moment before letting it out. "Why did they attack Blake?"

Lo Si began to explain when his expression darkened, and then he rushed down the corridor without another word. Several of the medical staff were with Blake by then, checking his condition and tending to his new injuries, so Kermit stood and rushed after Lo Si, pausing only long enough to grab the valise containing his laptop.

"What? What is it now, old man?" he demanded as he caught up with Lo Si.

"This evil grows with each demonstration of its power over the displaced spirits. Peter is in extreme danger, more so than his father, more than any other. He has been the prime target all along, because the evil one knows if he controls Peter, he will control Kwai Chang. I am afraid that if we do not intercede soon, unspeakable horrors will await both of them."

Kermit grabbed Lo Si's arm and swung around to face him. "Who the hell is this evil one?"

"Dr. Freize."

The name stunned Kermit so much that he let Lo Si slip from his grasp. The old man continued his previous course without waiting for Kermit.

"Freize?" Kermit whispered, trying to dredge up everything he could recall on the incident at the fair last year.

He had been out of town at the time, but he'd read the coroner's reports on the dead victims and had heard Peter's story of how they'd cornered Freize – how the recently released spirits from Freize's 'wall of souls' managed to _'capture' _him and entrap him in their own unique way. Something strange certainly happened, because Freize was never seen or heard from again.

Kermit cursed under his breath, and then hustled to keep up with the Ancient. "There was an attack on the forensics team that went to the cemetery after Peter was attacked. They were investigating Peter's discovery of some unidentified remains. Is that related to this, too?"

Lo Si stopped and stared at Kermit, as if seeing him for the first time. He reached forward and rubbed at the smudges of ashes on Kermit's skin. The old man looked downward as he sighed, and then glanced back up to meet Kermit's gaze. "You, too, bear the mark of death."

Kermit felt his expression tighten in confusion. "The mark of death? Are you talking about the ashes that Blake and Peter had on their skin?"

Lo Si pointed to the smudges of ashes on Kermit's skin. Kermit nodded with irritation. "Okay, so somehow in all of this, I managed to get some on me, too? So what?"

The Ancient shook his head quickly, as if deciding he had spent too long being motionless. "Yes, yes, it is most unfortunate. The mark of death is upon you and if we do not quiet these spirits, they will attack you, too, at some point."

Kermit followed Lo Si as he moved, still trying to understand the old man's words. "You mean anyone with these ashes on them can be a target?"

"To answer in your own words, _'oh yeah'_," Lo Si said, barely slowly his pace.

Kermit grabbed Lo Si's arm, stopping him for a moment. "You don't think this is close to being over yet, do you?"

Lo Si spared Kermit a sideways glance before he starting moving again. "It has only begun, my friend. It has only begun."

Kermit's breath caught for a moment as he realized where and why they were now heading. Blake had said that Peter had been covered in those ashes. They were on the surgical floor.

"Ah, shit," Kermit muttered under his breath.

"Do not waste time cursing, my friend," Lo Si admonished, "Instead, get on your cell phone and call for more backup. It will take the efforts of many to ensure that Peter survives the attack of these spirits, and more."

"More?" Kermit asked as he obediently pulled out his cell phone.

"If the spirits do not kill Peter outright, they will attempt to kill all those around him that have been tainted by the ashes. In the ensuing confusion, I believe Dr. Frieze will try to steal Peter away from us and use him against his arch enemy, Kwai Chang Caine."

"Is there anything I can do, Lo Si?"

"Just stay outside this door. I do not wish for you to become a victim as well."

Kermit bristled at the thought. "I don't do victim."

Lo Si spared him a rare smile in the grimness of the day. "All I ask is that you stay here. This may be more difficult than our previous encounter."

"Why?"

"Because Peter is the focus of their attention and he will be the source of their strength because of it."

Kermit swallowed, not fully understanding the Ancient's explanation, but he didn't bother to stop him. He watched as the old man rushed into the surgical suites and he was about to curse again, but instead he heeded Lo Si's advice and punched Simms' phone number into his cell phone. If Lo Si was right, they'd need as much backup sent as possible.

**~oOoOoOoOo~**

**Chapter 4**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Kermit waited outside the OR for what seemed like an eternity, waiting for backup. He had his weapon pulled, ready for any sign of an assault by Dr. Freize, but since he'd never met the man, he wasn't sure what to expect.

He began pacing in front of the door leading to the surgical suites as he counted the passing seconds since Lo Si had disappeared inside the door. He decided he wasn't going to rush in with guns blazing as long as it was silent on the other side of that door.

Then when his cell phone rang, it startled him so badly, he automatically swept the area for danger. After he confirmed that he was in relative safety, he answered the call, trying to make his voice sound as normal as possible.

"Kermit, how are things there?"

He recognized Karen's voice immediately, then he glanced around, struggling to find the words to explain the recent events to her without sounding totally whacked. He stopped when a grim thought struck him.

"What did they find at the cemetery?" he asked, glancing at the still closed door to the surgical ward.

Karen paused, and Kermit knew that wasn't a good sign. She cleared her throat and said, "The forensics team who went out to the cemetery is dead – the entire team – all of them gone. I've got others out there now trying to-"

"Get everyone out of there now!" Kermit shouted without meaning to, but he didn't have time to apologize. "Get them out and put them through one of the county's chemical decontamination units. Everyone. Do it now."

"What? What do you know that I don't?" Karen asked, keeping her voice professional, but Kermit could hear the apprehension dripping present there.

"There was an attack on Blake here at the hospital a few minutes ago and the Ancient thinks Peter's next on the hit list. What's more, Lo Si believes anyone who comes in contact with the ashes and remains of those found in the burial crypt are doomed to die without the same type of outside intervention that only he and his Shaolin kin can provide."

Her tone was demanding as she asked, "What else is there that you aren't telling me?"

There was a pause on her end of the phone for a moment and Kermit closed his eyes. In that instant, he knew deep down that somehow Karen had made an impossible leap in thinking and discerned a connection from Blake's and Peter's situation from something in his words or tone. Damn her detective skills anyway.

When Kermit didn't answer her right away, he heard her curse under her breath, confirming his suspicions. "Wait – don't tell me, you've got the ashes on you, too. Somehow, some way, you've got those damned ashes on you, too."

Kermit sloughed her concern off. "I'm not the one you need to worry about. It's Peter and the surgical team working on him. They'll be exposed, too, but first – do as I ask and get those people out of that mausoleum and into a decontamination unit."

Kermit heard Karen take a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm going to put you on hold for a moment while I make a few calls. Don't you dare hang up without explaining this to me in greater detail."

A minute later, she was back on the line. "Okay, I've got everything lined up. There are quite a few people not very happy with my orders, given the strange nature of the situation. I had to pull a lot of strings to make everything happen as quickly as it had to be, so what you're about to tell me better be good."

Kermit couldn't help the quick smirk that sprung to his lips. "If you want an explanation for what's happened today, you've got the wrong man on the phone. I'm only passing along Lo Si's recommendations."

He sighed and began pacing again.

"Talk to me, Kermit. How's Peter and Blake?"

"Blake's alive. That's about all I know at the moment. As for Peter... " Kermit couldn't hide the dark worry he felt surrounding Peter's current condition from creeping into his voice.

"I'm coming over there," Karen said simply.

"No, Karen, don't come yet," he replied back. "If I'm reading the old man correctly, and I think I am, I believe we are going to be making a move soon. Wait for my call before you leave the office."

She sighed and he was hit with a visual image of Karen rubbing her forehead with a headache in full gear as she did. She said, "Okay, I'll agree to that for the moment. And I'll see who I can spare or pull from other precincts for some additional backup for you at the hospital. Sounds like you'll need it."

"Thanks," he said softly, then chuckled, "Tell me, who did you call for help? Ghostbusters?"

"Very funny. I'm leaving the ghostbusting detail to folks like Lo Si and Caine." She paused for a moment. "By the way, have you seen Caine?"

And just as she asked, the same question crossed his mind. Kermit straightened, realizing the significance of Caine's absence for the first time. "Ah, hell. No, I haven't, and you know as well as I do, that's not a good sign."

"He was supposed to be at the fair with Skalany. Now, both of them are missing,"

Karen's tone was softer as she asked, "Do you think what's happening at the hospital is associated with what happened at the fairgrounds?"

"I don't know. Dr. Freize's name has been mentioned. For a mass murderer like Freize, he could do something like that without blinking twice. And I rarely believe in coincidences. If I find out anything for sure, I'll give you a ring."

A sudden eruption of commotion from behind the OR doors caused Kermit to end the call. "Oops, looks like intermission is over."

As his quip ended, he whispered, "Damn, I hate it when the old man is right. Whatever units you can spare, you better get them here ASAP. We'll need to decontaminate everyone who's had contact with the ashes from that mausoleum. Gotta run... "

Karen was saying something, but he hung up on her, and punched the button on the nearby wall to enter the OR. What he found when the doors opened was a scene very similar to the one where Blake was under attack, only it was Peter who was now dangling vertically in midair.

The young man was still unconscious. Kermit flinched as he saw the bruises, cuts, and bullet wound on Peter's naked body, each bleeding injury left a long trail of blood down the length of his body. Worse, it appeared Peter was losing too blood much to be good.

There were 'devil winds', mini-tornados, surrounding several of the staff and many were under attack, judging by the screams Kermit could hear over the maddening din of the ghostly maelstrom.

Kermit's first thought was that the death toll for the night was about to take another big jump, though nothing living could have kept Kermit outside that door, knowing Lo Si was fighting alone to save Peter's life. Whatever backup he could provide, he would, even if his presence placed himself in mortal danger. If he got lucky, the threat might attack Kermit instead, leaving Peter alone long enough for Lo Si to get him to safety – the kid looked bad, and that was without the building swirl of ghosts threatening his life.

Kermit looked to the Ancient and saw that Lo Si had raised a hand with his medallion prominently displayed, but this time, the swirl of revolving spirits barely acknowledged Lo Si's presence, almost laughing at the man's audacity.

Kermit released a low whistle when he saw that Lo Si had been right. It wasn't going to be as easy this time. In fact, they were probably in the fight of their lives.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Kwai Chang roused up to see Xenia and Inky still at his side, though Xenia appeared to be quite anxious. He heard Inky tell her, "Honey, tone down that gift of yours. You aren't going to be of any help to anyone if you are rattled by every negative vibe that's out there."

"It's Peter, Inky. I can see him – he's dying and I can't see how to help him!"

She started to crumple. Her father caught her, lowering her to her knees, and enveloped her in his arms strengthened by years of working at the carnie. What he lacked in height, he more than made up for in physical strength.

Inky brushed back some of Xenia's dark curls and looked into her eyes, "But we don't know where he is, ladybug, so we are stuck here until Caine can tell us... "

"He is here, in this hospital," Kwai Chang managed to whisper, drawing their attention back up to where he lay on the gurney. "But Xenia is quite right when she sees him near death. If the angered spirits have their way, Peter will be dead, or under Freize's control very soon. We must stop this from happening – "

Kwai Chang started to rise up, but collapsed and fell back hard enough to flare his injuries to life. Squeezing his eyes shut, he summoned all the strength he could muster and tried again. This time, he was able to sit up with help from his friends.

"Where is he, Caine? I can go to him and help him without you needing to move – " Inky volunteered.

Xenia shook her head, interrupting her father with a tone of authority that silenced him. "No, we must all go, if Peter is to survive. Lie back down, Caine. You're going for a little ride."

Kwai Chang's eyes were barely open as he nodded. His friends guided his gurney down the hallway, so he could focus entirely on following the invisible link he shared with Peter. While they rushed toward Peter, Kwai Chang prayed they would reach him in time.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Distantly, Peter was aware he was in pain and in danger, but his past beckoned to him, pulling him back to a long ago memory.

_**Flashback**_

_"Father?" Peter asked as he squinted, looking up at his father beside him._

_Peter had just turned twelve, and was in the middle of a huge growth spurt, but his father still seemed to tower over him._

_"Yes, Peter?" Caine responded, bending slightly toward him._

_Peter stammered as he fought to find the proper words to express the confusion he felt. "It just isn't seem fair that Master Xiong is dead. He was still a young man. He did so much good for others and – and – "_

_Caine's head cocked in Peter's direction just as Peter's tear-filled gaze latched onto his. His father reacted to Peter's emotion, devoting his full attention to Peter. He bent low and placed a hand on Peter's shoulder. _

_"It is a great loss for all of us. Master Xiong's death will have an impact on all who have known him."_

_Peter nodded, fighting to suppress his emotion in the same way his father managed so easily, but he failed and a tear slipped down his cheek. "Master Xiong was a good friend. He had so many friends who will miss him."_

_Peter paused when one tear became a sudden flood. "I will miss him. I will miss all that he could have taught me. Just last week, he promised to teach me how to play the guitar after school was out."_

_Even as he finished speaking, Peter sighed, suddenly realizing how shallow his words must have sounded. One of the most respected priests of their temple had died suddenly and all he could think of was not getting the guitar lessons he had been promised._

_He groaned in frustration. Embarrassed, he stepped away from his father's embrace. "That's not what I meant to say. I meant – "_

_Caine's expression took on a sad cast as his eyes looked beyond Peter to survey the others leaving the funeral services. "I know what you meant, Peter. Master Xiong left much unfinished. His passing has left us all grieving. Do not worry about what you say or do. Your awkwardness is simply grief working its way through your heart and it may continue for a time, because Master Xiong was a good friend to you. The loss of a good friend is worthy of much grief."_

_Peter nodded in agreement and wiped at the additional tears staining his cheeks. "I will miss him. A lot." _

_Peter saw his father watching the others when something his father said to him a moment earlier came to him. "Father, does death always leave so many things undone?"_

_Kwai Chang shook his head as he stood. "Not always."_

_The Shaolin priest ran his fingers across the top of Peter's head, his fingers slowly brushing over Peter's shaven scalp. Sensing that the contact was more than just skin touching skin, Peter looked up at his father, and knew his father was thinking of a greater loss, remembering a deeper sort of grief that haunted both of them even to this day. He took his father's fingers in one hand and squeezed them._

_"Did – did Mother leave a lot unfinished?" Peter asked in a quiet voice._

_Caine's eyes squeezed shut for the briefest of moments before he shrugged slightly. "No, not a lot. She had some time before she died, time while she was ill, but not incapacitated, so she was still able to do the things she wished to have finished before the end."_

_Peter tugged at the collar of his Shaolin robes worn for the funeral. The garments felt too starched and scratched at the back of his neck. "How long was Mother sick before she – before she – "_

_Caine's sigh cut short Peter's struggle to bring up the subject of her death. A wave of disappointment washed over Peter. He knew so little of his mother. And it always seemed to cause his father so much pain whenever he discussed her, enough that Peter had become accustomed to not asking. _

_But Master Xiong' sudden death had infused his thoughts with other questions about dying and those who had already died. Peter watched the others in the group with great curiosity. Death and dying were factors that had molded so much of his young life, but he was still a novice when it came to observing its effects on others._

_He was surprised when his father started speaking, his hand now resting on Peter's shoulder, as if holding onto him for strength. "She was ill for several months before we realized we would not be able to save her," Kwai Chang's voice broke at the end and Peter's hand reached up to rest on his shoulder, brushing his hand over his father's in a comforting rub across tightly tensed muscles._

_"I wish – I wish I could remember more of her," Peter said solemnly._

_Caine's melancholy smile broadened slightly as he pointed to Peter's heart. "She is there, inside of you, ready to visit you whenever you are ready to receive her."_

_Peter's gaze dropped down to the finger pressing against his chest and then down to the ground. "Sometimes – sometimes, I can't even remember what she looked like."_

_Caine reached down and looked into Peter's eyes, then he swept Peter into his arms, holding him tightly. "She had long red hair and deep blue eyes. She liked to sing to you every chance she could get. She even had you singing the words to entire songs when you were only two. You were the light of her life and her greatest sadness was that she would not be able to see you grow up."_

_Peter watched his father speak with surprise. Caine never was able to say more than a few words about her at a time before he would go silent and disappear. The sad smile on his father's face intrigued him, knowing the reason for the sadness, but the smile was a mystery._

_"So, Father, she knew she was going to die and this gave her time to take care of the kind of unfinished business most people aren't given the time to do?"_

_Caine's smile grew more distant, but he nodded in response._

_"What did she do to take care of her unfinished business?"_

_Peter didn't expect his question to shock his father, but Caine released Peter's hand and stood quickly. "Come, we must return home. We have much to do before the sun goes down, my son."_

_Caine began to walk away without looking back and Peter's heart ached for the misery he knew he had just resurrected for his father simply by talking about his mother. He felt bad about it, but there were times when he just had to ask questions about her or he felt like he'd explode. _

_He glanced back at the people still standing around talking, as was typical following funeral services, and sighed. Those people could talk about the death of a loved one, but it wasn't something he was allowed to do. All he could do was wonder about his mother and make up daydream encounters with the woman who had given him life, but that he would never know._

_*Unfinished business,* Peter thought as he stepped forward to follow his father. *It's not just the dead that are left with unfinished business,* he decided as he quickened his pace to catch up with his father._

_**END OF FLASHBACK**_

Peter groaned as the memory began to fade back into the past when it belonged. He was close to returning to consciousness, but there was a darkness encroaching upon his spirit, dimming the special memory that had just surfaced in his thoughts. It was a cold, fearsome, bitter darkness – the stuff of nightmares, but Peter was alert enough to know he wasn't dreaming any longer.

Someone was threatening him... and threatening those he cared about. An evil man who wanted nothing more in the world to have his father, Kwai Chang Caine, in his clutches.

Suddenly, Peter recognized the cold bitter darkness, recognized its flavor from a past encounter and knew Dr. Freize was trying to steal him away. If that failed, he'd just kill Peter. Either way, Kwai Chang would suffer a mortal wound and Freize would still have him.

That very thought made Peter mad, fighting mad, and gave him strength and purpose he would not normally possess. "You go back to hell where you belong, Freize, because the Caine family won't be beaten by the likes of you!" he shouted into the ephemeral mists of his mind.

All he heard in response was a deep, malicious laughter. The laughter itself was enough to drive one insane, but not Peter. It only made him more determined. It was time to find his father. It was time to fight back. It was time to end this once and for all.

**oOoOoOoOo**

**Chapter 5**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Kermit glanced up from the chaos unfolding in the OR to see a young woman and a dwarf pushing Caine on a gurney through the corridor leading into the OR. Caine looked bad, but Peter looked worse and Kermit was grateful to have Caine there for backup, albeit not in Caine's usually robust state.

The threesome passed Kermit without acknowledging his presence. Their focus was beyond him, up ahead where the unconscious Peter was surrounded by the ghostly spirits threatening him.

Kermit followed them as they went Lo Si. The Ancient was struggling as he negotiated in Chinese with the furious spirits whirling above them. The strain upon the old man was apparent. Over the din of the wind above them, Kermit heard the woman whisper to Caine, "Don't ask me how or why, but I think I can help him."

Caine stared at her for a moment, his dark hazel eyes filled with fear and pain. He stood before he nodded for her to proceed. She left him with the dwarf, who managed to keep Caine upright. As the woman approached Lo Si, Kermit stepped up behind her, filling the space she had just left.

"What's she going to do?" Kermit asked in a hushed whisper as he wrapped an arm around Caine's back.

Caine's expression contorted as he struggled for the proper words. "She has a gift. A rare gift. She is going to use it to calm the spirits."

Kermit knew there was something more Caine wasn't saying. He glanced across to the small man on the other side of Caine and saw apprehension growing in the stranger's eyes. Both of them turned back to face Caine, who sighed and whispered, "She is going to act as an intermediary, placing herself between the spirits and Peter."

The small man started to pull away to go to the woman, but Caine held onto him. "It was her decision, Inky. You must let her try. If she fails, many will die."

"But – but she's my little girl... " Inky whispered.

Kermit eyed the man Caine had called Inky more closely as he recalled Inky was the name of the carnie owner from last year. Inky stood still for a long moment before he relaxed and stepped back beside Caine, obviously trusting Caine to intercede if necessary.

Inky's daughter, whom Kermit realized had to be Xenia, spoke briefly to the Ancient, in a voice so low, Kermit couldn't make out the conversation. Lo Si handed her the medallion, and then squeezed her arm in a show of support. Finally, he stepped back, allowing her to move forward into the swirl of spirits circling Peter.

The spirits had been spiteful in the preceding moments, occasionally striking out at Peter, leaving long, shallow cuts in their wake, but with her acquisition of the medallion, the spirits went wild, rushing round even faster than before, but amazingly they did not harm her. After a moment, the spirits left Peter alone, too.

Xenia just stood there, with her eyes closed, as if she were communicating with them on a separate plane of existence. She raised both arms after a moment, and swept the medallion back and forth at the spirits before she shouted, "LEAVE HIM NOW!"

In that instant, the room went silent. The ghosts disappeared just as Xenia and Peter both fell to the ground. Peter landed in a crumpled heap atop the surgical table. Those still able to move rushed forward to tend to the injured in the dim lighting that remained.

The brief silence ended as the medical staff started issuing orders. Inky went to Xenia's side, along with Lo Si, as Kermit and Caine went to Peter. Kermit touched Peter's arm and it was like ice. An orderly and a nurse joined them, pushing Kermit aside and covered Peter with blankets.

A doctor came over and said with a heavily shaken voice, "Restart his IV and check his vitals. Call out when you have them."

As the doctor turned away to check another patient, Kermit helped Caine rise to his feet. Lo Si appeared on Caine's other side, holding his arm to give him additional support, but Kermit knew Lo Si was there for more than physical aid. Lo Si looked directly into Caine's eyes and said, "We must move Peter to a safer place – a more _sacred_ place where the spirits will not venture to attack."

Caine only nodded, seeming beyond words.

That fact didn't seem to faze Lo Si as he continued, "I have a place in mind, but I am more concerned about the dangers in moving this group to the new location than I am about its security once we arrive."

Caine's gaze drifted over to the medical staff caring for Peter and Xenia.

Kermit broke the silence. "This group? What do you mean by this group?"

Lo Si turned to him after giving Caine one more worried glance. "Anyone tainted with the ashes of the dead must be moved there. It is the only safe place to protect them from Freize's evil."

"Freize again? How can Freize be behind... this?" Kermit asked, incredulous at Lo Si's implications.

The Ancient nodded firmly. "He is. And he will not stop until we stop him. In his quest to achieve vengeance against those who drove him away before, our enemy has gained enormous powers."

"He has Mary Margaret and Wolf," Caine whispered softly, adding, "and many, many others as potential victims to torture."

Lo Si put a hand on Caine's shoulder. "Yes, he sought to capture Xenia and her father in the chaos of the carnival explosions as well, but he was unable to do so because of her gift. He will not stop now until he also has Peter under his control. There are many others in danger and those numbers threaten to grow. We must move these people here and we must move them now."

Leaning closer to Caine, Lo Si whispered, "We cannot save everyone, my friend, but we can save many by going to the great shrine outside the city."

Caine nodded and sank into a wheelchair an orderly had appeared with. Lo Si bent low and whispered, "We may yet be able to save Mary Margaret and Wolf, but we must get to a more protected area first to plan, and then make our move."

Kermit reacted to the gravity in Lo Si's voice, glad for a task he could actually do. "I'll arrange for transportation and a police escort, but I imagine the hospital staff and administrator will be a little harder to convince, not to mention my superiors."

Lo Si smiled wanly. "You leave them to me. Make your arrangements, and then join me. I may be in need of your powers of persuasion to get the final approval."

Kermit nodded and stepped out in the hall to make his calls. Though Kermit hadn't acknowledged it, the enormity of the day's events would eventually hit him hard, events that distorted in his understanding of the world as he knew it. Bourbon had always been handy to have in the past when he sought to bring things back perspective, but this time, he wondered if he had a bottle big enough.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Karen Simms didn't like being kept in the dark. Not one little bit. Especially when she had several members of her forensics team dead and some of her police detectives hospitalized. No, that wasn't right, she thought as she corrected herself. Her detectives were no longer at the hospital, though they were still in need of around-the-clock medical care.

For some reason only Caine, Lo Si and Kermit fully understood, they were now being transported to some obscure Chinese shrine and gardens at the far edge of the city, and escorted by several of her best SWAT members. These policemen assigned to protect the entourage were carrying the highest level of ordinance she could possibly arm them with, because Kermit had warned her a war was coming. A war. In her city.

Kermit was given to paranoia at times, but when she spoke to him on the phone, hearing him tell what had happened to Blake and Peter, along with the reports from Frank of the massacre of the forensics team sent to the cemetery, she began to believe in the possibility of war, but war in a realm only seen in sci-fi horror films.

Her earlier conversation with Kermit kept grabbing at her heart, leaving a ragged wound wherever it touched.Her mouth went dry as she remembered her accusation, _'You've got the ashes on you, too. Somehow, some way, you've got those damned ashes on you, too.'_

Kermit downplayed the danger he was in, but it did nothing to reduce her concern for him. She slapped her thigh and cursed aloud, "Damn him, anyway!"

She glanced around self-consciously. Police captains were usually above talking to themselves, but then it had been one hell of a night and it wasn't over with yet. The sun was hours away from rising and Freize could strike at any time.

She just prayed they had enough firepower and manpower to deal with the more normal aspects of Freize's assault. As far as the metaphysical angles of Freize's imminent ghostly attack went, that was in the hands of Lo Si, Caine, and the fortuneteller Kermit mentioned from the carnival.

Karen sighed and began to pace, pushing her gloved hands deeper into her down-lined trench coat. It was going to be a cold night, even for October's standards. Damn, it felt more like November or December. Karen worried that being out in such extreme cold might further compromise the injured patients' conditions, but she had no control over that detail.

Kermit had promised to explain the reasons behind choosing this location in greater detail once they arrived, but Karen wasn't too anxious to hear the specifics. Yes, she hated being in the dark, but she was more afraid that the explanation she would hear would only increase her apprehension, rather than appease it. In fact, she suspected the story she was going to hear would probably send her usually strong sense of practicality shooting straight into outer orbit.

She straightened and smoothed the wrinkles in her coat as she saw Chief Strenlich ambling up to her and she was relieved to have his company. At least, she wouldn't be caught talking to herself again and hopefully he had some good news.

"What do you have, Frank?" she asked as she took a few steps toward him.

"The group from the hospital are en route, and should be arriving any minute unless something else happens along the way. I've got my top street cops with them to make sure nothing happens along the way and I managed to commandeer some of our best SWAT officers to watch our backs here."

Karen grunted. "We'll both have a lot to answer for if this incident goes badly."

Frank smirked. "Well, the job was getting a bit tedious anyway."

Karen smiled and shook her head. "Don't worry, Frank, if this goes poorly, I'll take the heat. Now, what can you tell me about the situation at the hospital?"

"Most of the surgical staff who were in the OR with Peter when things went south are in a bad way. Some not expected to live through the night. Those who were in the worst shape stayed at the hospital, at the administrator's request."

Karen let out a long sigh and turned to watch the small waterfall leading into the garden's moonlit lily pond for a moment. The relaxing sight was the very opposite of everything she felt. She let her gaze linger there for a moment before she pivoted back to Frank.

"What about the rest of the fairground victims?"

Frank shook his head. His voice was low and graveled as he said, "There's no definite number of the dead at this point, let alone the injured."

Karen nodded, then frowned as another thought struck her. She glanced around warily. If Lo Si's warnings were as dire as Kermit had said, none of them at the shrine might survive the night. Frank must have caught her reaction because he softened his tone as he added, "I've got our guys out securing the perimeter of the shrine and gardens as we speak. A grasshopper couldn't get through without authorization."

The image made Simms smile and she looked up into Frank's eyes. "That's very reassuring. Keep up the good work. I'll wait here for the others to arrive from the hospital and help direct things until everyone is settled inside the shrine."

Frank nodded in agreement. "We've already got cots set up to use as beds. And about a dozen outdoor heating units going at full blast to warm the place up. It doesn't help that it's colder than a witch's t– " he paused, catching himself before he used the crude analogy.

He cleared his throat and scratched at the back of his neck. "Well, it's cold and hopefully the heating units will warm the place to a tolerable level. It's certainly not Mercy General, but the injured should be comfortable, though it's going to be a tight fit to get everyone inside that shrine."

"We'll manage. You've done an amazing amount of work in the short time allotted to you, Frank. I'm sure they will appreciate your efforts."

Karen frowned as she thought about the makeshift accommodations. It was like treating patients in a MASH unit or out in the extreme wilderness. Dr. Sabourin was resourceful, but Simms wasn't sure she was up for what was ahead of them. Hell, Karen wasn't sure she was ready herself. She turned back to Frank and noticed how distant he'd become.

Somehow, sensing the cause, she touched his arm and asked, "It was bad at the cemetery?"

Frank's gaze dropped down and he probably didn't even realize he had stepped away from her touch as he struggled to answer her question. The seasoned ex-Marine had seen much in his career, but obviously the scene at the cemetery had shaken him deeply.

Frank shook his head, delaying speech for another moment, and then when he spoke, it was without looking directly at her. "It was as bad as I've ever seen a crime scene. The bodies of the forensics team were butchered. Their clothes just hung in shreds over their bodies. Most of them bled out before we ever got there."

He sighed and shook his head, as if trying to shake away the disturbing images. "I had our people gather what they could of the forensics team's equipment and the samples already collected before they were attacked. Then, we got your call to pull out, so we left without grabbing anything else."

He took a deep breath. "And everyone who had gone inside the mausoleum went through the county's decontamination procedures as ordered, along with the people from the hospital who had been in contact with Peter and Blake."

Frank fell silent again, rubbing a hand across the back of his short-cropped scalp. "I've got to be honest with you, Captain. The whole time I was going through the decontamination process myself, all I could think of was the forensics team we'd lost in that tomb. They never knew what hit them. They were just doing their job. Like we do every day of our working life. They were just doing their job and they died horribly because of it."

Frank had to take another deep breath before he appeared in control again. "We need to start making phones calls to the family before the press gets wind of this."

Karen nodded, reaching out again to rest her hand on Frank's forearm folded in front of him. "The Commissioner is already making those telephone calls personally. It won't be easy, given the extreme violence involved."

Frank's gaze grew unfocused, probably with visions of the carnage he'd viewed at the mausoleum. Again, she brushed her fingers over his arm to lend him a portion of her humanity, to help bring him back from the atrocities he'd seen.

"We'll get to the bottom of this, Frank. Our people won't have died in vain."

Frank looked at her for a moment, a questioning expression on his face, before he added, "That's all dependent upon the fact that we survive our next encounter, isn't it?"

Karen smiled wanly and sighed. "I suppose you're right about that."

She went silent for a moment, and then turned to her Chief of Detectives. "You said you have the equipment and samples collected at the cemetery. Where are they?"

Looking surprised, Frank said, "In the trunk of my car. Over there."

"How about we have a look at what they had collected while we wait for our people to finish securing the area?"

Frank looked a little green at the thought, but nodded in reluctant agreement. He fished his keys out of his pocket and started walking toward his car.

**oOoOoOoOo**

**Chapter 6**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

As Kermit arrived in the caravan of ambulances with the others, he saw Karen and Strenlich standing at the back of Frank's car, looking at the contents of his trunk.

Kermit had chosen to ride shotgun in the front passenger seat of the ambulance carrying Caine and Peter. He was just getting out of the vehicle, when he noticed Strenlich was already in his car and pulling away from Karen. Kermit assumed Frank was going to patrol the pre-established perimeter of the shrine and gardens since he wasn't heading toward the main gate.

Lo Si came out to greet him, his expression grim. Kermit glanced over at him warily, then to the injured being unloaded from the various ambulances. Kermit couldn't stop himself from asking, "Do you really think we are doing the right thing here?"

Lo Si released a long sigh before directing his gaze toward Kermit. "We are following the only option fate has left open for us."

Kermit frowned. "Do you mean fate or Freize?"

Lo Si shrugged slightly. "It is the same thing in this case."

Kermit clenched his hands into fists. "Give me my chance with Freize and I'll put him down, especially after what he's put my friends through, and the innocents he's killed and endangered."

Lo Si's voice was low and full of warning as he said, "Be careful what you wish for, my friend. Freize is not a man to discount. He is the very epitome of evil and all will be in danger until he is vanquished."

The old man didn't say anything further as they walked and Kermit didn't argue with him, mostly because Kermit knew Lo Si rarely exaggerated. As they came to a stop, Peter's, then Caine's gurney, was unloaded from the ambulance. Both men roused slightly with the jostling movement, though Peter's reaction had been more of a pain-filled groan than the beginnings of alertness.

Kermit walked along beside Peter's gurney as it was carried toward the shrine rather than pulled along, putting a hand underneath it to help support its weight. The shrine's graveled paths weren't exactly conducive for gurney transport. As they went, Peter kept murmuring gibberish amidst soft moans of pain.

Dr. Sabourin and a volunteer nurse exchanged worried glances with Kermit. They were just as concerned as he was over his partner and friend, but the Caines couldn't have asked for better medical care if they'd been blood relatives to the medical staff.

That thought should have given Kermit more comfort, but all Kermit could think of was the ugly battle awaiting them all. As a lifelong soldier, he knew the primary rule of war was to go into battle as well prepared as possible. His engrained training reminded him that entering a battlefield with a host of already injured people placed them at a major disadvantage. It weakened their overall defenses and reduced their ability to mount a counter attack, leaving them open for a quick and decisive killing blow.

Kermit didn't follow Peter and the others into the shrine. Instead, he headed in Karen's direction. Stopping at her side, he bowed slightly, and spoke using a Southern drawl. "Captain, we are honored by your presence."

Karen gave him a grim smile and brushed at a loose strand of hair that had come loose with the slightly rising breeze. "Good to see you, too, Kermit."

She let her gaze drift back to the shrine, now overflowing with the injured and her expression turned dark. "Given the number of my detectives involved in this escapade, I thought it best to handle things personally. We are in the process of securing the area. Don't let anyone leave the safety of the shrine until we are certain the place is locked down."

"You've got a captive audience here, Captain. Not many of those transported here via ambulance are capable of movement right now. Besides, from what Lo Si says, I don't think there's any place on earth that would be considered absolutely secure from Dr. Freize's attack."

Karen frowned, then glanced toward the number of ambulances about to depart the area. "What's the game plan?"

Kermit followed her gaze toward the ambulances and then to the shrine. He shrugged slightly. "The Ancient has the notion that he can put these raging spirits to rest by doing a traditional Chinese burial ceremony for them. It might work, it might not. I have nothing to gauge that by, but I do know Freize isn't going to sit back politely and give us a chance to regroup. He's going to go on the offense and it's going to get ugly before it gets better."

Just then, Karen's walkie-talkie came alive with chatter. She picked it up and turned up its volume, then she said, "Please repeat last call."

It was Strenlich. "Captain, we just stopped a Jeep driving at the west end where the fencing climbs up into the hills. Apparently, they were trying to sneak onto the property by using the Jeep's four-wheel drive."

Kermit caught Karen's gaze, but before Karen could respond, Strenlich continued, "Captain, Skalany and Wolf are in the vehicle, along with a man called Randy who was driving."

Karen straightened and said, "Hold them there, I'm on my way. Simms, out."

Kermit stepped closer and whispered ominously, "It's beginning."

Karen didn't reply, lost in her thoughts. They got into her car and went silently to the location. As she drove, Kermit pulled his weapon, checked to make sure he had a full clip, even though he already knew he did. He just needed something to do before Armageddon began.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Peter woke up gently, so slowly that he didn't even bother to open his eyes. For a moment, he allowed himself to dwell on the dream he had of his father and Master Xiong's funeral, especially on the part where his father revealed a long forgotten detail about Peter's mother.

While the new information answered many questions for Peter, it sparked a whole other firestorm of questions about Peter's mother – questions that might never get answers if his father chose not to respond.

With unresolved issues of his mother and father, Peter's thoughts wandered to the spirits he'd encountered. He shivered violently as he recalled the ghosts, especially their vehement goal for retribution, and their unwavering dedication to Freize. It was a deadly combination.

There were so many heartbreaking stories that had been revealed to him while he was immersed in the presence of the Chinese ghosts in the mausoleum – stories that demanded vindication, absolution, and some sort of resolution. Those poor people had been murdered, viciously and deliberately, without any sort of offense on their part, except for being Chinese in a town where the wealthiest man there hated Chinese people – this from a man who claimed to be proud to have them in his town, at least until they completed the work for which he'd brought them from China. After that, they became disposable.

If there was some way he could help quiet their angry spirits, to allow them to finally be put to rest, Peter would do whatever he could to make it happen.

The air around him was crisp with the approach of dawn. Normally, Peter enjoyed the crispness of the autumn air, but not now. The cold had insidiously crept its way into his bones. He knew he had to be somewhere outside and not still in the hospital, so something was very wrong. It was a mystery beckoning for his detective's heart to solve.

Peter tried to rise up, but he fell back, gasping for air as his injuries squeezed the air from his lungs. Someone took his hand in theirs, rubbing their fingers lightly across the abraded skin on the back of his hand. As his thought processes cleared, he realized it was a woman holding his hand and there was a familiarity to her touch.

Finally, his curiosity got the best of him and he opened his eyes to find Xenia at his side. Her face was pale and sweaty. She looked like she'd been battered in some way, although not in a physical sense. Still, she silently bore her psychic war wounds. And somehow, Peter was able to see them. He sympathized for her, knowing in some way, he was responsible for her pain.

There was something in her appearance that alarmed him, but he didn't know how to address it. He swallowed and found his mouth dry. He forced through the dryness and whispered hoarsely, "What – what are you doing here, Xenia? And where the hell are we? Better question – _why_ are we here?"

She didn't answer him at first. When the response came, it was in a low tone, barely above a whisper. "The Ancient thought the sanctity of the holy shrine would offer us some protection, but I'm not so sure. At least, that's why we are here. I came to offer the use of my gifts to help keep the spirits from attacking you, but I am not well trained in such matters and what little I can do seems to weigh heavily upon me."

Glancing away for a moment, she added, "I'm not sure how much longer I will be able to keep them away from you."

Just like that, the horrors of the earlier evening sprang to mind and Peter was immediately caught up in those events. He started gasping for air and pressed a hand to his bullet wound. Xenia tried to calm him, but he just ignored her, trying to rise.

He managed to lean on one elbow as he pushed her away from him. "You've got to get away from me. You're putting yourself at risk just being here beside me!"

Peter's strength gave out on him and he fell back to the pallet, hard, groaning aloud with the resulting flare of pain, angry that he'd been unable to silence it, just as he'd been unable to resist the repeated onslaught of the spirits' attack.

Through half-slitted eyes, he saw she wasn't following his order as she sat unmoving, and he groaned again, but this time it was more a growl of frustration. He took her by the hand and begged, "Please... Xenia, don't do something that will – "

Xenia's soft touch of her fingers to his lips cut him off. Peter could tell just by looking at her that she wasn't about to back off.

"I will do what I have to do to protect you and the others. Lo Si is preparing a burial ceremony for the displaced spirits who were inadvertently awakened. It is my hope and belief that the burial ceremony will quiet them."

Her lower lip quivered with the intensity of emotion she was feeling before she was able to control the feelings and speak again. "Peter, the stories of these murdered spirits are so incredibly sad. The way they died. Freize gathered them all together without offering a reason or even any warning, and just set them aflame in the lower crypt of that mausoleum, all because of his bigotry against the Chinese in this town and his lust for evil."

"Freize? Are you saying Freize was alive a hundred years ago? No, that's just not possible... wait, are you saying that Freize and Henley were the same man?"

When he met Xenia's tear-filled gaze, he saw compassion radiating from her eyes. "Yes, this is what your father and I believe to be true. Wolf agrees."

She easily pushed him back down to the pallet. "Easy. In case you haven't noticed, you've got several serious cuts on your body, along with a bullet wound and a concussion. The only thing you will be doing is resting, my dear friend."

Peter raised a shaky hand to brush away some tears from her eyes. "Okay, I'll rest, mainly because I need to ready to help out when Freize makes his move. That's why we aren't in the hospital any longer. That's why we are out in the boonies. It's for a battle against Freize one more time, isn't it? A battle where the loser forfeits everything?"

Xenia nodded, blinking to remove another flood of tears. "I never realized the depths of that man's evil when he worked at the carnie with us. Inky and Wolf always tried to steer me clear of the man and now I know why. Julian, the patron saint of carnies, must have had his hands full protecting me from being seduced by his form of darkness."

Peter took her hands in his and rubbed them, but both his and Xenia's hands held no warmth. Xenia's gaze took on a pained cast and she shook her head as she brought a hand to his cheek. When Peter looked out at her, he was surprised to see her crying again. "What is it, Xenia?"

"It's so awful, Peter, I keep seeing how those people died in that mausoleum fire."

She brought a hand to cover her trembling lips as she continued, "So many lives cut short. I've been... talking to them, when their anger calms down enough to allow us to speak. It makes me want to destroy every memorial to Henley in this town, break them down with my bare hands!"

When she started crying again, Peter took her in his arms and held her until the tears eased. As the crying ebbed, the stories began. "There's one woman, barely older than a girl who was to be married the day after their fiery death. Her fiancé died with her, but she has such regret for the life they never were able to live out together."

She sighed. Peter brushed his fingers across her lips and said, "You don't have to say the words. Part of their stories I already know. I'm not sure how I know, but I do. But nothing in the retelling of their tragic events will alter the end results. They will still be dead, cut down before their time."

Xenia gently wrapped her arms around him, comforting them both as she did. The two understood more about what happened in that mausoleum basement than any other living individual. Somehow, it seemed right to share in the grief the world never knew had occurred.

Xenia nestled her head under Peter's chin and whispered, "Peter, these were simple Chinese immigrants who had come here expecting a better life."

Peter nodded. "I understand the fears and torment of these displaced spirits. In our religion, dying in the way they did separates them from their ancestors because they died without a proper burial. With their fiery end, Freize barred them from moving on to the next life. Just how Freize conned them into believing they should follow him now is beyond me. I can only pray that Lo Si and my father will know what to do next."

Xenia stared up into the night sky and didn't respond. Peter wondered what she was looking at. Were the angry spirits lurking a distance away from them, just waiting to attack? He was about to ask when she spoke. "There is a grieving man who reminds me of you and your father, Peter. All he wants is to be reunited with his son. There are so many more stories like that. It's enough to break your heart."

Peter wiped a tear falling from her eye. "And it explains their rage, but you have to make those spirits understand what's going on. You have to turn them against Freize."

Xenia sighed and nodded. "I'm trying, but it's so hard. Freize's influence over them is formidable. I don't know if I'm strong enough to break through it."

Peter squeezed her hand still in his. "Do what you can. If the Ancient thinks a burial ceremony will do the trick, then that's what we do. He's rarely wrong in situations like these. Between the two of you, maybe you can save the others from being hurt or killed."

Peter's hand trembled and cursed at his weakness. "Dammit, I can't do a blasted thing in the shape I'm in. I need to be able to help you and Lo Si and the others."

Xenia brushed the errant locks of hair from his face, smiling sadly. "You started fighting this battle long before the rest of us did. Don't be so hard on yourself. Save your energy for when it will really count."

There was something in Xenia's tone that told Peter she knew more than she was willing to share. "What do you mean?" he asked cautiously.

She shook her head and glanced up into the cloudless sky. "No matter what happens, you can't let Freize's negative influences shake your self-resolve. When the time comes, you'll be up to the challenge. All you have to do is believe in yourself, in your love for your father and your friends, in the ability of good to overcome evil. Those will be your weapons against Freize – weapons that leave him powerless.

Before Peter could ask her what she meant, TJ walked up to join them. He knelt beside Peter and Xenia, and gave both of them a long, hard stare before he relaxed. "Hey, Peter, good to see you up again. I wish I could say our troubles are over, but everyone and everything around here is warning danger. Are you up to another encounter with your ghostly friends?"

Before Peter could reply, TJ's walkie-talkie came alive with a report of city-wide hysteria related to the incidents at the fair and the cemetery. Cursing, TJ muted the radio but it was too late. The damage had already been done.

Realization of the night's events hit Peter like a ton of bricks. "Hundreds dead? Damn," Peter whispered, horrified at what had happened because of him. "Maybe, if I had been more on top of things at the mausoleum, none of this – "

Xenia leaned closer to him, putting her hands on both sides of his face. "It is not for you that all this has happened. It was done to haunt and torment your father. By causing you pain, Freize knows it will cause your father more pain."

Peter's eyes widened in fear. "Wh-where is my father?"

Xenia smiled and pointed across the interior of the shrine. Caine was seeing to the needs of the injured, working with Dr. Sabourin to give the best possible care, given their unique situation.

Peter sighed with relief until he saw his father's appearance and the stilted way he moved. He had been injured, too. Lying back, Peter squeezed his eyes closed and draped one arm over his eyes.

Another thought struck him and he rose suddenly, whispering, "Jody... Jody's okay, isn't she? I mean, Freize didn't try to attack her, too, did he?"

Xenia smiled sadly and shook her head, seeming distraught that she was unable to alleviate his fears. TJ spoke up for her. "No, Peter, they didn't attack her. She's safe with a police guard in the room, though I'm sorry to say that she still hasn't awakened from her coma."

Peter looked up at TJ, his gaze filled with determination. "We are gonna beat Freize and make him pay for all of this. All of it."

TJ nodded, apparently not sharing the full extent of Peter's enthusiasm, but he seemed ready to make the attempt. "Sure, we will, Pete, but for now, rest up. When Freize makes his move, you need to be as strong as possible."

Xenia nodded in agreement. Peter took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He was going to be as ready as he could be. "Freize has a hell of a lot to answer for. I think it's time he paid for it in full."

He tried to relax as he went over the information he'd gotten from Xenia and he tried to brace himself for the worst, but the truth was he had no idea what to expect.

**oOoOoOoOo**

**Chapter 7**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Without warning, Peter's hand went limp and his head dropped to one side. Xenia gasped and turned in the doctor's direction. "Peter just passed out," she blurted.

Dr. Sabourin went to Peter's side. When Xenia stepped back to allow the doctor to work, she saw Kwai Chang had slipped right beside the doctor and he held one hand on Peter's shoulder. After examining Peter, Sabourin said, "Without receiving the surgery Peter needs to remove the bullet still lodged in his side, Peter's physical condition will deteriorate quickly."

Sabourin turned to her nurse. "I want a second I.V. started. I don't want him going into shock."

Looking to Caine, her gaze flashed with anger, then she shook her head. "I'm sorry. Peter needs to be in an operating room. If his condition doesn't improve, I may be forced to operate here."

Caine bowed stiffly, his expression contorted by worry and concern for his son.

Sabourin reached forward. "I will do everything within my power to help him, but understand this, he is a very sick man at the moment."

Caine nodded again and backed away, allowing Sabourin and her nurse to treat Peter. Xenia took hold of Caine's arm as he whispered, "Frieze will use Peter's weakened state to try to disillusion my son, to try and turn him away from me, and by doing so, to make me his prisoner."

Xenia's eyes filled with tears and she embraced the older man, knowing Caine was right about Freize's intentions. "Believe in Peter, believe him to be strong enough to fight off Freize. He can do it, especially with our help."

Caine cupped one hand under her chin and smiled. "Inky always said you were a special child, but I never realized how special until now. Thank you for putting yourself in harm's way in an attempt to save my son."

Xenia smiled softly. "He's worth it. That and more. He is a rare gem in a sea of jewels."

Caine bowed reverently, then kissed Xenia on the forehead. He straightened, only to cock his head to one side as he pulled away, as if hearing a distant sound. "Soon, the battle will begin. Very soon."

Xenia glanced about nervously. "Shouldn't you be helping Lo Si prepare for the burial ceremony or something?"

Caine's smile was sad as he replied, "Master Lo Si has more than enough help. Besides, in my weakened state, I would only be a distraction to him. It is better I wait here to help Dr. Sabourin and to be with my son until the ceremony begins."

Xenia looked down at Peter as Sabourin and her nurse completed their treatment for the time being. Xenia's voice wavered as she said, "The guilt Peter feels from Freize's attack at the carnival tonight weighs heavily upon him."

Caine nodded. "Yes, that is my son. He has always taken on more guilt than was his, but he has the heart of a tiger. As you said, he will fight hard when the time comes."

Xenia started to falter, and Caine caught her, easing her down onto a nearby pallet. "It is time for you to rest, too, Xenia, before the battle begins. If you are not careful, you could overextend your powers. Remember, you are not fully trained in their use. You must be careful to protect yourself as well as others in order for us to successfully defeat Freize."

Xenia started to protest, but then she looked deeply into Caine's hazel eyes that were so like Peter's. She sighed and nodded. "I will rest for a few moments, but wake me at the first sign of trouble."

Peter opened his eyes in time to see his father smile with assurance and brush his hand over her eyes. Within seconds, she was fast asleep. When his father looked over at Peter, Peter let his gaze bore hard into his father's soul. "Father, I have failed you by awakening those angry spirits and I'm afraid there's no way to quiet them now."

His father shifted in his position on the ground beside Peter's pallet, pulling his son into his arms as gently as possible. "Peter, close your eyes and listen to your inner spirit. Are you truly to blame for all that has happened? Or is it a matter of destiny unfolding?"

Peter's breathing was slow and even as he did as he followed his father's request. As he looked at the events without emotion clouding his judgment, he saw that his portion of responsibility was very small in the overall picture.

When he opened his eyes, he was much more relaxed. He smiled weakly at his father. "I guess you were right. Hell, you're always right."

His head ducked down and he whispered, "Thank you for helping me to see the truth."

He glanced over at Xenia, sleeping quietly beside him. "Is she okay?"

"Yes," his father said softly, "Like you, she is resting to conserve her strength for the time where it will be most useful. You should close your eyes and rest a little longer. I promise to awaken you when the time of battle is near."

Peter seemed to resist his father's offer, his gaze looking out at the moon as his mind was flooded with distant memories. "I had a dream a little while ago, something I had completed forgotten about until now. Master Xiong's funeral."

Peter left the last three words as an invitation for his father. Instead of responding as Peter wished, the older Caine seemed to close off part of himself, a part that had been wide open moments before.

"That was a very long time ago, Peter. It holds little significance now." There was a tone of rebuke in his father's dismissal, something flared Peter's temper.

"Hold on there, Pop. Just give me one good reason why we can't talk about that time."

His father seemed to be fighting internal demons himself as he struggled for words of explanation, so Peter pressed on. "Pop? It's about Mom, isn't it? That's why you don't want to talk about Master Xiong."

Peter shifted position to ease the pain from his bullet wound, but nothing seemed to help, so he just pressed his hand more tightly over the wound as he waited for his father's answer. He wasn't about to let his father slip off the hook this time, especially considering the fact that neither one of them might survive the night.

"Pop – Father, please, there are things I need to know. Things I have a right to know. And given the fact we might all die in the next few hours, I think I deserve to know. I need that peace of mind."

His father sat perfectly still for several seconds, though his hazel eyes revealed the inner torment battling for control.

"What is it that you want to ask about Master Xiong's funeral?" he asked finally.

Peter felt energized with the possibility of more information of his mother. He rose up on one elbow and said breathlessly, "You told me Mother had some time before she died, when she knew she was ill and wouldn't survive and that she was able to complete some unfinished business regarding me."

Peter licked his dry lips with excitement, but then his strength faltered and he had to lower himself back to the pallet. "What was the unfinished business she did for me?"

His father looked ill, truly ill, with Peter's question – so ill that Peter glanced about for Dr. Sabourin in case his father needed her, but his father stopped him with a hand upon his shoulder.

His father closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "What I have to say will be a disappointment to you, and that is why I have never mentioned it again, especially after we were reunited."

Peter reached over and placed a hand over his father's forearm. "What could be so bad that you couldn't tell me?"

His father shrugged, but it was done with an obviously aching heart. "Because I knew you would be disappointed, and angry, and... because it would serve no useful purpose for a young man like yourself."

This time, Peter let his hand drop away and he fell back to the pallet, hard. Furious at the cryptic way his father had of speaking without telling a person a single thing.

"Goddamnit, Pop! Just tell me what it was and leave it to me to decide if it's useful or not!"

His father swallowed and leaned back against the wall behind him, as if gleaning enough strength from the atmosphere around him to face his angry son. Just when it felt like Peter was going to explode, his father started speaking. "Your mother wrote a journal, just for you, to be given to you when you were old enough to read it and understand it. It was the way she was able to process her disappointment over not being able to see you grow into manhood – her inability to be there whenever you needed a mother to help you, basically her thoughts on the tragedy that would prevent the two of you from ever really knowing each other."

Peter listened, taking in each word. When his father paused, Peter's anger flared anew, so strong in fact, he could no longer feel the pain and fatigue of his body. "A – a journal? For me? Why didn't I ever see or hear of this journal before?"

Peter's voice was tight with forced control. He wanted information and he wouldn't get that if he let his anger run wild.

At least, his father's voice was repentant when he began speaking, "She had decided that it should be given to you on your thirteenth birthday."

Peter felt his expression go blank. "Thirteenth? But the temple was destroyed when I was still twelve. I was told you were dead and you were told I was dead. Nobody ever said anything about a journal!"

His father shook his head, tears filling his eyes. "Yes, the temple was destroyed by Tan before your thirteenth birthday, before I could give the journal to you."

He locked onto Peter's gaze. "I returned many times to the rubble of the temple, but I never found your mother's journal. I'm so sorry, Peter. It was your mother's most prized gift for you, but I am afraid it has been lost forever."

Peter felt the sting of burning tears in his eyes and felt ridiculous for their presence. After all, why shed tears for something that was destroyed decades ago? What good would that do? It wouldn't bring her words back to him. It wouldn't tell of her love for him. It wouldn't do a goddamned thing to cry over the lost book. Still, tears was his only reaction.

His father took his son into his arms and held him for a long time as Peter's pain and disappointment began to blend together and weakened him further. Yet, somehow in sharing that loss, the bond between them grew stronger than it ever had been.

And maybe that was something his mother could have wished for the men she had loved as wife and son – a close bond that would carry them together through life strong and intact. However, Peter doubted his mother had ever dreamt of the type of conflict the two Caine men would soon be facing.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Randy was on his knees with his hands behind his head as the others surrounded him outside his jeep. When he heard the big guy called Strenlich addressing the newly arrived woman as Captain, Randy started groveling. "Please, help me," he whispered.

Another man, shorter and slimmer – but wiry and dangerous – started to step around the Captain. He looked like he was going to grab Randy by the throat when the captain put out a hand to stop him. Funny, she looked so much less dangerous than this guy, yet she commanded his actions.

"How did you get here? How did you know where we were?" the captain asked, her voice harsh with authority and anger and Randy thought he saw glimmerings of where her ability to command came from.

Randy sputtered, "I heard Dr. Freize talking about it. Oh, God, please help me! I beg sanctuary from Dr. Freize! The man will kill me once he sees I've betrayed him by bringing these two back to you!"

Though Randy ranted incessantly, he kept his eyes focused on the weapon of the dangerous man, which was aimed directly at his head. The captain glanced in the dangerous man's direction and frowned, gesturing for him to put the weapon away, then she asked, "Frank, see where that ambulance is. Skalany and the man with her needs immediate medical attention."

"It's on its way. Should be here any second," the man called Frank responded as he checked on Skalany, dabbing at her cuts with a handkerchief.

Then the captain looked back to Randy with a dark cast to her expression. It disappeared before she began to speak in a softer tone, "You have a lot of explaining to do, uh, Randy, before any of us can believe you."

Randy's head bounced up and down several times as he agreed with the police captain, but his gaze never left the dangerous man's for very long, because the dangerous man was watching him just as closely.

To fill in the momentary silence, Randy began rambling in his plea for sanctuary, hardly stopping for a quick inhalation of air before he'd continued again. "Please, you have to help me kill that demon! He has ruined my life. Killed most of the carnie roustabouts I once worked with. He's driven me mad with his relentless quest to destroy Caine and his son. You have to give me sanctuary! You have to! When he finds out that I've betrayed him by bringing these two here, he will not stop until I am dead. Dead man walking, that's me, unless you decide to grant me sanctuary here."

The dangerous man looked like he was about to get rough with him when an old man appeared from nowhere. The old man put a strong hand on the dangerous man's shoulder to stop him.

Before the dangerous man could react, the old man waved for Randy to stand, so that he could peer deeply into Randy's haunted gaze. His gnarled fingers patted Randy's face gently. "Yes, you may stay with us. But know this, you will be imprisoned at the first sign of betrayal."

Randy nodded vigorously. "Yes, sir. Yes, sir, I understand. And I will do everything I can to help you kill Freize!"

"We may not have to kill the man. We want only to deter him from his quest."

Randy became more agitated with the old man's response. He shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets as he started pacing without permission to move. "No, you have to kill him. Kill him. Don't you see? If you don't kill him, none of you will be safe ever again. The man has lived for hundreds of years. Maybe thousands! He's an immortal! But I know ways to kill him – ways he doesn't know I know. If he knew I had that knowledge, I would have been dead long ago. Man, I wish he would have killed me before he put me through the living hell of this past year. I weigh half as much as I did a year ago. And the torture I suffered for not doing my job right, for allowing Caine and his son to get in and defeat him has made me a crazy man!"

The old man silenced him by touching his face again and Randy was unexpectedly filled with peace. "You will be safe with us, but you must follow our orders."

"You can't be serious, Lo Si!" the dangerous man shouted. "He just waltzed in here with two prisoners as easy as you please! He's Freize's errand boy! He could be setting us up for – "

The old manput a hand to the dangerous man's shoulder. "Kermit, he is speaking honestly. This man may turn the tide of events our way. We cannot deny him."

"Ah, hell," the dangerous man uttered in disbelief, throwing his hands into the air. "I don't believe this!"

He spun around, putting the barrel of his gun to Randy's temple. "Where is Freize?" he growled.

Randy's gaze darted all around looking for help, but he didn't move any other muscles. "He's close. Very close. That's why I'm here to warn you."

"Bullshit!" the dangerous man whispered, leaning closer to him. "Tell me the truth or I'll put you out of your misery right now!"

Randy began to stammer. "T-truth? It's all the truth. I swear."

The old man put a hand on the dangerous man's arm again. The dangerous man seemed to stop himself before the old man could and glanced in the old man's direction. The old man said, "It is the truth and we are wasting precious moments needed to prepare for Freize's attack.

The dangerous man gaped at the old man and all the police captain did was shrug. After a long, tense moment, the dangerous man pulled back from Randy and walked away.

"Th-thank you, mister," Randy told the old man breathlessly.

"Stand and follow me. Remember, you must follow my orders explicitly."

"Yes, sir. Yes, sir, I can follow orders. Sure, I can do that. Just don't ask me to do something evil. I don't do evil anymore. I don't care if I die because I won't do evil, but I don't evil anymore. Nope, not anymore."

And that was the truth, no matter how badly the dangerous man wanted to kill him.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Kermit's knuckles went nearly white as he struggled against the urge to strike Randy down, just to shut him up. He didn't buy Randy's story, not for a single second, thinking Freize's cunning could conceive of a plot to sneak a man into their enemy's camp under the pretense of a white flag, then have him ready the place for Freize's assault. No, the battle would be over long before it ever began.

Kermit sighed._ *If the Ancient thinks this raving lunatic is okay, we can let him stay until he shows his true colors... or until I have to kill him for being a true raving lunatic.*_

Randy fell to his knees again in front of the Ancient, weeping with gratitude, and then stood to follow Lo Si, like a faithful lap dog, as the old man directed him help carry a large leather bag Lo Si had with him, filled with many items hidden inside.

"Come, you may assist me in dispersing these items to aid in our battle with your former mentor. There is much to do before he arrives – so much to do..."

Kermit rubbed one fist as they walked away, glancing over to Karen, who was involved in checking on Skalany and Wolf. She stopped when the ambulance pulled up beside them to retrieve their injured.

"It seems we've got a couple more patients for the good doctor to look at." Karen's speech was clipped as she spoke to the paramedics, but there was no mistaking the relief in her voice as it carried over into her words.

Kermit knew what was behind the relief. One of her missing detectives had been found, along with one of the missing carnie people. Knowing where they were meant there was no longer a possibility of finding them listed on the death toll, which was growing longer by the hour.

Karen knelt down by Skalany and took her hand, speaking softly to the female detective. "Medical personnel are nearby to take care of you. I know you are in a lot of pain, but I'll need to debrief you as soon as possible. The knowledge you have of Freize's hideout might become crucial information if he decides to attack us here."

Skalany grimaced, biting her lip as she waited for her pain to subside. She shook her head, speaking loud enough for Kermit to hear her, too. "It's not a matter of if – it's more a matter of when. He wants Peter, but he wants Caine worse. He's got an... army, I guess that's what you'd call them, and he will attack – probably some time before sunrise.

While Karen and Kermit digested her information, Skalany caught Kermit's eye. "Kermit, for what it's worth, I really think Randy's telling you the truth. Freize plans on killing us all slowly, using our deaths to torture Caine. He vowed as much right in front of us. I don't think Freize will be a happy camper once he finds that we aren't still in that creepy prison of his, filled with his acid-spitting collection of frogs."

Kermit gave Skalany an incredulous glance. Mary Margaret shrugged. "Well, it's true, Kermit. Believe me or not. It's just as unbelievable as anything else that's happened in the last twelve hours."

Skalany swallowed with great difficulty and it was apparent she was already suffering from dehydration. "Randy only brought me and Wolf with him when he snuck out. I guess because we were the closest to the door, but, Captain, there are dozens of people from the carnival still trapped there. It was too dark to count them, but I'd guess there had to be at least fifty people in there with us."

Karen spared a glance at Kermit and he nodded, deciding to leave Skalany and Wolf to her and the medical personnel who were attending to them and the discussion of battles quickly became secondary to vital signs and medical procedures. They were better left to those who knew how to treat their infirmities while he was going to concentrate on what he did best, like following suspicious characters – even ones deemed acceptable by Lo Si.

In Kermit's gut, he couldn't get past the suspicion that Randy was a possible double-cross disguised as a victim in need of protection. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," he whispered as he followed Randy and Lo Si from a discreet distance.

There wasn't much else he could do at the moment anyway. The medical personnel were taking care of the injured. Peter was unconscious, so he couldn't interview him. For the briefest of moments, he thought about debriefing Randy, but then he tossed that notion aside.

The man had definitely lost his mind under Freize's tyranny. All that would be derived from interrogating Randy would be the loss of Kermit's own sanity, he thought with a sarcastic grunt.

No, the best course of action would be to follow Randy for a while to get a feel for what the man did when no one was looking... or when he _'thought_' no one was looking.

Kermit barely noticed the beautiful serenity of the shrine and gardens around him. Even in the early morning hours, there was a tranquility present that normally would have given Kermit pause. The simplicity and solitude of the location invited him to relax and soak up its inherent peace, but serenity was an elusive commodity for him, especially when the risk of attack was so great. Plus, what guarantee did they have that the shrine would be as secure as Lo Si said it would be? The additional protection provided by Karen and her security force should have allowed Kermit to breathe a little easier, but he wasn't.

There were far too many possible avenues for attack, weaknesses in their defenses that sorely needed shoring up. The soldier in Kermit didn't like the unfolding scenario one bit. Even if they did beef up their defenses as much as possible, Freize still held the winning cards. How did one fight raging ghosts bent upon the destruction of everyone around you? How the hell did one fight... hell?

Kermit sighed and picked up some rocks from the ground and kept his pace behind the two men. He wondered if Lo Si had been correct in choosing this location for their final battleground. He paused when they stopped as they set some brass object on the ground. Kermit sighed again, never letting his gaze leave Randy. Master Khan joined Lo Si and Randy, and assisted them in placing several Chinese ornamental objects around a certain area.

Kermit couldn't stand it any longer and he let the rocks drop from his hand as he walked up to join them. "What happens after you get these things in place?"

Lo Si smiled as he reached for a large garment bag. "I change into my priestly robes, pray for a certain length of time in mediation for the proper frame of mind, and then I will begin the actual ceremony."

Kermit watched Randy with suspicion as he listened to the Ancient talk, but he glanced back to Lo Si when there was hesitancy in the old man's voice. "What is it, Lo Si? What aren't you saying?"

Lo Si glanced around with a hint of uncertainty and motioned for Kermit to follow him as he left to change clothes. After they were out of hearing range, Kermit leaned closer to Lo Si who was still maintaining a rapid pace. "What's up?"

"I need you to get a message to Kwai Chang."

Kermit looked back at Randy and Master Khan. "A message? Why don't you just use your Shaolin bat phone to tell him yourself?"

Lo Si glanced up at Kermit in irritation for a moment before he ignored the comment and said, "Tan's evil is strong in this place. Perhaps, the shrine is not as sacred as I first thought. It may have been tainted with evil, the type of evil Freize feeds upon."

Kermit stopped in his tracks, grabbing Lo Si's arm. "Tan? As in the guy who tried to kill Peter, his father, and yourself?"

Lo Si merely nodded, then started moving forward again.

"Why would – "

"I cannot explain why his presence is so strong here. I can only say that it is. And that it does not bode well."

"What? Are you saying Tan could have joined forces with Freize? And now we are gonna have fight off both of those assholes? That's crazy!"

Kermit slapped a hand against his thigh to accentuate his point, but the thought wasn't actually that crazy, considering some of the things Kermit had witnessed seen since Caine had reentered his son's life. The mental images left him angrier if anything. He was already worried for his injured friends, now this – this was too much to ask of them.

Lo Si nodded as he continued his pace. "It could be an alliance serious enough to turn the tide of events. However, we have no choice. Freize is mounting his assault even as we speak. We must move forward as planned."

A few moments later, Kermit left Lo Si to dress for the burial ceremony. When Kermit went inside the shrine, he found Caine holding Peter in a heartrending embrace. Obviously, another conversation of great importance had taken place.

In order to give the father and son a few more moment's of privacy, Kermit turned back to view the setting moon resting on the treetops. It gave the shrine a holy appearance with its silvery blessings. At least this isolated shrine was a beautiful place to die, Kermit thought with a sarcastic grunt.

Trouble was coming – there was no question of that. All that remained to be answered was how soon and how much. Kermit prayed Lo Si, Xenia, and Caine had enough time to prepare for their part before the ghosts and Freize descended upon them.

**oOoOoOoOo**

**Chapter 8**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

"What the hell?" Peter sputtered. "Tan? Here? Give me a frigging break!"

Caine put a hand on his son's shoulder and looked up at Kermit. The man's face seemed devoid of expression. "You said Lo Si wanted me to be aware of Tan's presence here?"

"That's what the old man said," Kermit replied, his voice low, watching both Peter's and Caine's reactions.

Peter's was expected. Caine's was... weird.

Instead of reacting, he simply said, "Thank you, Kermit. I will see what I can determine on my own."

Peter's gaze went from his father to Kermit and back to his father again. "I just don't get you! Tan's presence here? The same place where Freize is planning an attack? It's gotta be more than a coincidence!"

Caine shook his head. "Not necessarily. I have been here before and felt vague impressions of Tan's presence. Not in a current sense, but from long ago. Tan is not a threat to us."

Kermit shrugged and left them, with Peter still sputtering, but it was obvious Peter was getting weaker by the minute. He needed surgery and couldn't wait forever.

Kermit went in search of Karen and found her standing beside the open trunk of Frank's sedan. "What's in here? My Christmas present?"

Karen smiled and shook her head. "The collected samples from the mausoleum that the forensics team managed to gather before they were attacked."

Kermit's smug grin disappeared as he gazed into the trunk. Several plastic bags contained parts of clothing and shoes and then there were numerous plastic jars that he assumed held samples of the ashes found there. The various boxes probably held bones.

A sudden chill made Kermit shiver and he glanced at Karen. "Are you sure it's a good idea having this stuff here? I mean, aren't the ghosts following the people that have had contact with these ashes?"

"It's just an educated guess, one that I hope to prove beneficial. I've discussed the matter with Lo Si and he wants to use the remains as part of the burial ceremony. He thinks having their actual possessions will go a long way toward a successful ceremony."

"That might be true, but seeing that stuff gives me the creeps," Kermit muttered, his gaze darting around the area that had once seemed peaceful and serene. Now, it just held the potential for more death.

"I take it you don't want to be the one to deliver the goods to Lo Si?" she asked with a smirk.

Kermit straightened his glasses, then his tie, and finally cleared his throat. "I don't have a problem with it," he said solemnly, reaching down into the trunk to pick up the case holding everything.

A hand on his arm made him pause. He glanced up, staring deep into Karen's blue eyes, and was lost in them almost instantly. Her voice brought his attention back to the conversation. "Kermit, you don't have to do this. I was only joking."

"Lo Si needs these items?"

"Yes, but – "

"Fine, then I'll deliver them. No problem."

He took off, leaving Karen at Frank's car, knowing she wanted to call him back, but she didn't. He sighed. Sometimes, he even tired of his macho persona. After about ten paces, he realized the box he carried was the remains of uncounted dead. Suddenly, it seemed to weigh several hundred pounds more. It wasn't fear or horror that disturbed him. It was the threat it represented to those he was there to protect.

He saw Lo Si decked out in his full ceremonial garb and let out a low, long whistle. So often, Lo Si preferred to fade into the background, unless he was charming a woman or a small child. Seeing him dressed as he was now reminded Kermit that the Ancient was a force to be reckoned with.

Kermit caught Lo Si's eye. The old man waved for him to deposit the box near the others stacked beside the kiln. Out of curiosity, Kermit peeked inside at the contents of the other boxes. What he saw puzzled him even more. He'd never been to a Chinese burial ceremony before and it might even be educational – just as long as the ghosts did as they were supposed to and leave, instead of attacking the whole group en masse.

Kermit turned to go back with the others when Lo Si stopped him. He reached into the box Kermit had just brought over and pulled out one small container of ashes. The Ancient closed his eyes, held one hand over the container and prayed. When he opened his eyes, he looked more like a Chinese version of Merlin as he said, "Guard this vial with your life, Kermit. It may be our weapon of last resort."

"What do you mean?"

"Simply that. When the time comes, you will be directed how to act."

Lo Si went back to his preparations and dismissed Kermit without another word.

Kermit looked down at the container in his hand and stuck it in his pants pocket. He understood little of what Lo Si and Caine did. He only hoped whatever they did, it worked.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Lo Si emerged in front of the others in full ceremonial garb and the clothing felt like it added about twenty pounds to his weight, but in reality, it wasn't. So much of what Lo Si was doing was purely illusional. Yet, he prayed the angered spirits would be impressed by his attention to detail from his clothing to the items to be used in the burial ceremony – all to show a reverence and adherence to the ancient ways of their religion.

Master Khan accompanied him, having already lit the hundreds of candles and incense before setting a strong fire burning within the shrine's kiln with Randy's assistance. Randy and Master Khan stood off to one side as Lo Si took center stage. Kwai Chang and Xenia silently joined the others standing at the side.

Lo Si began by singing chants to encourage the spirits it was time to accept their unfortunate deaths and move on. Those inside the shrine who could move about came out to watch the ceremony, beckoned by Lo Si's strong and clear voice reverberating in the chill of the pre-dawn hours.

He sang and chanted as he walked in an arc until he was satisfied that he had the spirits' attention. Next, he tossed gold and silver paper into the flames to signify money, and the remains of the personal effects taken from the basement of the Henley mausoleum. This was done to ensure a comfortable transit to the next life.

As he began to toss the personal effects into the kiln, there was a stirring of the spirits. Rather than watching from above, the illuminated spirits floated down to the site of the burial ceremony. They were silent, almost reverent, as they moved, unlike their earlier behavior.

Lo Si nodded to Master Khan and Kwai Chang, who joined in the chants, providing a constant background of soothing music and words. All was done with great homage to the dead, though Lo Si noticed Kwai Chang had to slip an arm around Xenia to keep her upright. The strain on Xenia was growing.

Lo Si prayed she would last the ceremony, for her part was vital to convincing the displaced spirits to accept the implications of the burial ceremony and move on to their next life. Unfortunately, Lo Si had little time to devote to the pale young woman and was forced to depend on Kwai Chang to watch over her.

Next, Lo Si began to toss food into the fire – meat, fruit, ale, and joss sticks meant to encourage a comfortable transit into the next life. He stopped and offered prayers every few minutes, and then would toss the next object into the fire of the kiln.

Two beautifully decorated Chinese lanterns went into the flames next and with that, the ghosts came closer. Hand painted silk dresses followed, bringing the ghosts even closer. Then, a child's decorated toy. A woman's wedding dress. The chants, the prayers, and the offerings all worked together to settle the raging fire burning within the spirits' souls to prepare them for entering the next life.

Lo Si began a long and memorized prayer, spoken as he walked waving burning incense. Round and round, Lo Si went. By the time he finished, the incense had burned out and the ghosts were at a standstill in front of him.

Lo Si nodded and bowed deeply, as did Master Khan and Kwai Chang. The ghosts bowed in response and each entered the fire, one at a time, until they were all gone except one.

The last one turned to Lo Si and bowed again. When he rose up, there was a small object in his hands that he turned over to Lo Si. The old man looked puzzled for a moment, glancing to Kwai Chang and then back to the last remaining ghost. He smiled and bowed. The ghost reciprocated with a broad smile and entered the fire with much joy.

Fire had ended their lives. Now, fire was going to give them new life. Lo Si took a deep breath and let it out slowly, bowing once more before he turned to the others. Master Khan walked up to shake his hand, followed by Randy. Kermit had slipped behind Randy at some point in the ceremony and followed Randy up to Lo Si's side.

Before Randy reached Lo Si, Xenia passed out. Kermit caught her when Kwai Chang was unable to move fast enough. "Get her back to the shrine," Kwai Chang implored.

Lo Si knew something more was going on and apparently so did Kwai Chang. "Now," Kwai Chang urged as he turned to the hills.

Then Lo Si saw something move in the hills.

"Prepare for attack!" he shouted, causing everyone to disperse.

War was about to hit. They had just finished one campaign, putting the spirits to rest, but they were not to be allowed any rest before the next phase began.

**oOoOoOoOo**

The frogs were the first warning sign of Freize's presence, and they were heard rather than seen – at least as far as what Mary Margaret could see. Their croaking sound seemed more frightening to Mary Margaret who had spent hours with the freakish things and she was well aware of the destruction they could do.

When she heard them croaking, she sat up suddenly, startling the nurse who was changing a dressing on her arm. Mary Margaret took one look at her and said, "Honey, you better find some place to hide and make it fast. All hell is about to break loose."

Wolf was in the cot next to hers and he was also in the process of sitting up. Alarm was apparent in his pale features. He didn't say a word, instead simply hunkered to his feet, and held out a hand to help Mary Margaret to stand.

She stood, turning to check on Peter, only to find him gone. Scared for her partner, she put an arm around Wolf's waist and hobbled along with the splint on her foot. "Peter's gone. He was supposed to stay put. Dammit, he was supposed to stay put!"

Wolf shook his head. "My brother wants to capture or kill Peter. And his father. Come, we must hurry."

Mary Margaret grunted and did her best to keep up with him. "Easy for you to say, buster," she muttered, but increased her speed nonetheless.

She glanced over at Wolf and the moonlight caught his eyes. She froze in place. For a moment, she thought she saw his eyes change color, from dark blue to silver-gray. He looked down at her and urged her along, but he didn't meet her gaze again, not once in the minutes that followed.

Mary Margaret kept watching him, depending on him to guide them along the direction they needed to take. It took her a moment to realize that his acid burn had healed itself with amazing speed. And he seemed to have developed quite a beard in the short time they had been together.

In fact, he had grown a thick layer of hair all over his body. Something weird was about to happen, she told herself. Good or bad, something was definitely going down.

In her gut, Mary Margaret worried for Peter, but now she also worried for Wolf. She shook her head. No, that wasn't quite right. Worry wasn't the proper term. Whatever was happening to Wolf didn't seem to upset him, so she had no visible reason about him per se. Still, she prayed it didn't mean more trouble was on its way.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Lo Si's alarm sent all the law enforcement people in the group moving to their pre-decided positions. They broke out their weapons and stood at ready, but an attack of acid-spitting frogs wasn't exactly included in the usual SWAT training and several officers found themselves surrounded by the vile creatures before they realized what was happening.

Kermit was beside Karen when the walkie-talkies started reported the sightings of the frogs, and then came reports of injuries. Kermit knew in the chaos of the ensuing moments that Freize would make his move, gaining a tactical advantage.

He glanced to the last known location of Caine and Lo Si, and was relieved to find them safe and sound, but unable to move in any direction due to the frogs. Kermit caught Karen's eye and they both spoke at the same time, "Peter."

The twosome were off and running back to the shrine when they encountered their own barrier of the frogs. Kermit didn't hesitate for a moment. He pulled his weapon and started firing, blasting the small amphibians back to the hell that spawned them.

Karen followed suit and laid down covering fire while Kermit needed to reload. All around them, others with weapons began firing on the beasts, but it looked like they would run out of ammo long before they destroyed the invading horde.

Karen was behind Kermit when she slipped, turning her ankle. Kermit heard her go down. He spun around to help her and spied a frog right in front of her, pinning her in place with fear. Something in the glint of the animal's eye told Kermit it was about to attack her, so Kermit dived, protecting her with his own body. The spray of acid hit along the back of his neck and shoulder.

He dove toward Karen with enough force to cause them to roll away from the attacking frog. He groaned each time his burned skin touched the grass as they rolled downhill. When they finally stopped beside the pond, both checked the area around them for danger. Kermit started to rise up, but crumpled to his knees as the acid continued to sear his skin.

Without warning, Karen pushed him into the pond water and followed him in, cupping her hands together to bring a handful of water up to rinse Kermit's burn, trying to wash away the acid. Kermit couldn't suppress the groan of pain that came with the water, but he was aware enough to know the efforts were necessary and would help him in the long run.

Karen pulled him out of the water after a moment. "Kermit? Kermit? Answer me!"

All he could do was hiss and cringe from the pain, but the burned skin didn't feel quite as agonizing as it had a minute earlier. The difference didn't seem to help him a lot, because he was still fighting against the pain.

He felt Karen pulling his clothing away from the burn and he grimaced, biting his lip before he breathlessly spewed his usual sarcastic rhetoric. "Ah, come on... it can't be... that bad. It's just... a little frog spit... and I'm immune to frog spit... because of my name," he managed to whisper.

"I think your immunity needs a booster shot," Karen said tightlipped as she worked, "because that frog spit has done enough damage for you to go topless for a while."

"That's... for the bedroom. Working now... need clothes."

Not reacting to his humor, she started unbuttoning his shirt, slipping the shirt and jacket off together and that was when he saw the gaping hole in his clothes from the burning acid. She continued, "I don't want the clothes to adhere to the burn. It'll make for a hell of a job to remove it at the hospital."

Kermit didn't reply, just gritted his teeth together as she did all the work. She tossed the clothing aside when Kermit suddenly checked his pants pocket and was relieved to find the container was still there. Then, another thought struck him and he started looking around again. "Where's my gun?"

Karen pulled herself away from her first aid efforts and both of them began searching for his Desert Eagle, which had become lost in the tumble down the hillside. "I'm sorry, Kermit, I just don't see it. Quite frankly, we don't have the time to hunt for it. We need to regroup with the others before Freize makes his next move."

Kermit's teeth had already began to chatter from the cold and the pain as he said, "I – I have a feeling he's already made it."

He pointed and Karen followed his gaze upward to see Dr. Freize for the first time. He was standing in front of the entrance to the shrine with Skalany and Wolf. Randy was lurking off to one side, hiding behind one of the generators. Caine, Lo Si, and Peter weren't within Kermit's line of sight, but Kermit was focusing solely on Freize.

"Kermit, does Wolf look different to you?" Karen asked, her voice incredulous.

Kermit wiped at the pond water dripping down from his hair into his eyes and he squinted to get a better look at Wolf. Swallowing with disbelief, Kermit nodded, and then looked up at the full moon right overhead.

"Do you think Wolf could be a nickname for... " Karen started, but couldn't finish.

Kermit supplied the answer for her, "Werewolf? Ah, hell, this shouldn't come as any surprise. We've been stuck in some bizarre Twilight Zone ever since I got back into town."

She helped him to stand. "Come on, we better get moving, especially since, you know, we can't adjust the controls on the television set... "

"Cute, I never knew you had a sense of humor," he replied, wavering slightly when he was upright.

Karen held onto him tightly, avoiding the burned area. "It only happens when I think I've lost my mind."

"Makes sense to me," he answered, and then went silent while they went to maneuver their way up to the shrine without being seen.

**oOoOoOoOo**

**Chapter 9**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

"Skalany, I want you to back away," Wolf said.

"Don't be scared by the changes you see happening to me. It's my only way to fight my brother on equal terms. Like in the old country when we were mere boys," Wolf said, and then he paused, glancing back at her. "But if I fail, throw everything you've got at him. My brother must be stopped one way or another."

Mary Margaret swallowed and limped a few steps back into safer territory. Freize was making his way up the steps of the shrine. She kept glancing from Wolf to Freize to Wolf again, amazed each time by the unbelievable transformation occurring in Wolf.

Freize only laughed at what he saw. Mary Margaret's breath caught with her next glance at Wolf. He now was truly more wolf than man.

"This ends now, brother," Wolf growled, gnashing his fangs at Freize and flashing the long claws of his front paws.

Wolf circled Freize, sizing him up, looking for the best opportunity to attack. Freize merely stood with his arms folded in front of him, shaking his head in disbelief at his brother's audacity. Moving as fast as a bolt of lightning, Wolf attacked, knocking Freize to the ground. Wolf went directly for his brother's throat, but suddenly Wolf went flying through the air, up the hillside until he slammed into the side of a huge tree with a definite canine yelp of pain.

Freize chuckled to himself as he stood and dusted the dirt from his dark clothes. "Foolish, foolish brother. What do you have next to entertain me before I destroy you?"

His gaze grew dark as he stared at Mary Margaret. "My lady, perhaps I could bring on the rest of my horde of frogs and watch you melt away into nothing with their united attack?"

Freize stopped as he paused in thought. Mary Margaret didn't know what to say or do. All she knew was she was looking death in the eye and had no defense against it. Suddenly, there was a loud roar and Randy came running up behind Freize with a large silver cross and impaled Freize in the back with it.

Dr. Freize actually appeared stunned by Randy's attack and dropped to his knees as he struggled to remove the cross from his back. He craned around, seeing Randy standing several feet away, gleefully pointing at Freize.

"I got him! I got him! Now, you are gonna die, Dr. Freize! Your kind of evil is just too much to walk this land. You can go back to the hell you came from and never come back! A silver cross should kill you! I bet you never thought I would be the one to get you, but I did. Randy Watkins, the avenger!"

Freize let Randy rant until he ran out of air, then stood and reached behind him to extract the cross that protruded from his back. There was a wet, sucking sound as the cross came out and Freize dropped it to the ground, still dripping with his blood.

Then he turned on Randy. Randy's whole demeanor had shifted in those brief moments from victor to victim. He started running for the hills, but he didn't get three paces before Freize held him in a spectral choking grip around his neck. The young man floated higher and higher as his air supply was cruelly denied to him.

Mary Margaret hid her face. She knew Freize was going to drop the man from a height rivaling the treetops in the area. Then it happened. Randy screamed, then there was a sick resounding thud echoed through the silent crowd when Randy's dead body hit the ground.

Freize dusted his hands and glanced around the area. "Next?"

Caine's angry voice cut through the ensuing silence. "Freize, stop this! You have come for me... take me and leave the others unharmed."

The man merely chuckled maliciously at Caine's offer. "It's much too early in the game for me to leave now, Caine."

He waved a hand, throwing Caine against the shrine wall. Caine hit the wall hard and slid slowly to the ground, causing Mary Margaret's hands to ball up into fists.

"I will get back to you later, Kwai Chang."

The other detectives, who had been out by the kiln watching Lo Si's burial ceremony, slowly shifted their position, moving in closer, hoping for a good shot, or some other means of attack.

"Come, come, am I surrounded by men or mere cowards?" Freize taunted.

Mary Margaret watched Captain Simms stepped forward and said, "You are surrounded by many brave individuals. I have to inform you that you are under arrest for your past crimes, in addition to the litany of new charges you've incurred since your return."

Freize smiled, obviously sizing her up. "Bold, I'll give you that, Captain, but you are not of interest to me. I am here for Peter Caine at the moment. Since I don't see him around, I can only assume he is cowering in fear somewhere."

Simms folded her arms in front of her. "Not hardly, Dr. Freize."

"Well, I have something that might bring out Peter Caine."

"Freize, cease your efforts now!" Lo Si shouted as he held the jade medallion in front of him. "We have dispatched your horde of angry ghosts and we will take care of you, too, if you force us to."

"I do not fear the likes of you, old man. Besides, I have other surprises to unveil."

The group held their breath as an unconscious Jody Powell floated over the hillside and settled down on the ground at his feet. "The woman Peter Caine loves will die in the next minute unless he shows himself."

There were several sharp inhalations and curses as the detectives recognized their fellow detective. Freize shouted, "Peter Caine! Come out, come out wherever you are! I've got someone dying to see you!"

Freize laughed at his own quip, obviously the only one entertained by his dark humor. The villain stood for another moment before he became bored. "Perhaps, Peter doesn't love her as much as he's led us to believe."

A solitary figure stepped out. It was Kwai Chang Caine, staggering more than walking, but he was clearly ready to stand between Freize and his son. Two more men stepped behind Caine – Lo Si to the right, and Master Khan to his left.

"Well, look at the Shaolin force, but where is dear little Peter? Hiding from me? Doesn't he know he can't hide?" Freize put a hand to his forehead and concentrated for a long moment before he pulled his hand away in irritation.

"You Shaolin and your mystical tricks. You cannot block me for long. Your tricks will only delay the inevitable. I never would have imagined your son as a coward, though, Caine!"

Kwai Chang bristled at Freize's words, but he didn't reply. Mary Margaret looked at the others, then put a hand to her injured leg and sighed. Freize was right. They couldn't shield Peter from him forever and that was what scared the hell out of her.

**oOoOoOoOo**

As the scene unfolded, Peter struggled against Strenlich's strong hold around his chest, wasting precious energy he should be saving to use against Freize. "Dammit, Frank, you can't keep me from doing what I have to do!"

"I have orders to keep you hidden and that's just what I'm gonna do!"

"Orders from who?"

"Kermit and Simms."

"Dammit, Frank, if I don't go out there, my father is going to sacrifice himself in some horrible way. I can't let him die for me!"

Kermit opened the door into the small storage shed where Frank had hidden Peter, sliding it open only wide enough for him to enter, and then closed it behind him. Looking at the two of them, Kermit said, "If you die for your father, kid, he's lost to Freize forever. Do you really want that on your conscience?"

Kermit reached out to put a hand on Peter's shoulder and faltered with his movement that caused a flash of agony from his burn. Frank caught him as he dropped to his knees and said, "Ah, geez, Kermit, that must hurt like a son of a bitch."

"Nah, not so much," Kermit whispered.

Then he caught Peter's gaze as Peter slumped against the wall, wrapping both arms around his chest. The two men, who were more like brothers than friends, traded much information in their visual exchange.

Peter was the first to look away. He stammered, "I – I can't just let Freize kill my father."

"That's not exactly what I have in mind," Kermit whispered as he straightened.

"Well, if you've got a plan, tell me. Otherwise, I'm going out there. I can't let him kill Jody or take my father. I'd die first."

Kermit shook his head and straightened. "Enough with the dying already. I believe in surviving my wars. Here's the deal, but you've got to follow the plan exactly or it won't work. Shit, it still might not work even if you do follow it exactly, but it's a hell of a lot better than just turning yourself over to him."

Peter eyed him. "Talk to me."

**oOoOoOoOo**

Frank gave Peter his spare handgun, which Peter slipped into the back of his pants. Kermit handed over the small cylindrical plastic container. Peter didn't need to look at it to know what was in it. Palming the container, he slid it into the other pocket. Peter could feel Kermit watching him warily.

Peter shook his head and squared his shoulders. "I'm not going to collapse on you if that's what you're worried about."

Kermit grunted. "Good, because the game plan would be over before it ever got started if that happens."

Kermit flinched when he shifted in the wrong way, then continued as if nothing had happened. "Xenia will step out beside your father, Khan, and Lo Si. Together, the four of them will create a few moments of smoke that will block Freize's sight of your approach. I was going to do it, but they insisted with your Shaolin training that you could get much closer to Freize than I could."

Peter licked his lips and nodded as Kermit continued, "Get as close to Freize as you can in those moments. I wanted to go for the killing head shot first, but Lo Si insists the plastic container will do much more permanent damage, maybe even kill him."

Peter frowned, then he pulled out the vial of ashes. "I don't get it. What's ashes from the Chinese immigrants gonna do to a man like Freize? I mean, I can see where they might have some power over him, but it doesn't seem to be much. After all, he caused them to die in the first place."

Kermit leaned sideways against some tall tools in the shed, protecting his burned areas and rested for just a moment. He let out a long breath and looked like he wasn't going to be able to stay on his feet much longer. "Lo Si said to tell you this, _'The ashes represent good now that the spirits have been laid to rest. The good contained inside may be enough to destroy Freize's evil.'_"

Peter mulled over Lo Si's suggestion when another thought hit him. He rubbed the back of his neck and said, "What – what about Jody? She's just lying there, unconscious and unable to protect herself."

Kermit patted Peter on the shoulder. "That's up to you. Once you make your move against Freize, grab her and get as far away from him as you can."

Peter licked his lips. He knew his odds of surviving were so low they really didn't matter, but he wanted really to drop kick Freize's ass back into hell, but he wanted so much more. He wanted for Jody to survive. And his father. But there was very little within his power to make any of it a reality. And the possibility of death to those he loved was more than he could tolerate.

Frank patted Peter on the back. "It's now or never, Peter."

Peter nodded and pushed open the door to the shed. Sure enough, there was a thick screen of smoke covering the area, but Peter knew exactly where Freize was standing, almost as if he could see him in his mind. He had to trust his instincts against Freize, otherwise he would lose everything.

He made his way around the edge of the shrine and listened for Freize, who had started to rant about the uselessness of the smoke screen. Hearing Freize's voice helped pinpoint his location. Closing his eyes, he could see Jody's helpless body still lying at Freize's feet.

"This is for you, Jody," Peter whispered, in the same way he had whispered ages ago at the cemetery.

Now, so many more lives depended on Peter's next move. He was determined not to make the same kind of mistakes he made at the mausoleum. He paused in prayer for a moment, meditating to focus his thoughts and actions, and then he stepped out. After providing the smoke screen, the Shaolin men and Xenia had begun to mask Peter's approach in another way. To cover any possible noise Peter might make, Caine was chanting, Khan and Lo Si was singing, and Xenia was deep in concentration.

Freize called up his frog contingent, but they were met with flame throwers manned by Strenlich and TJ, and hand grenades thrown by Kermit and Simms. Peter knew the weapons had to have come from one of Kermit's sources, but military ordinance?

_*Shit, Kermit, nobody ever said you didn't play to win,*_ Peter told himself.

Without warning, Freize struck out at Xenia, apparently choosing her as the most vulnerable and she collapsed without a sound. Another arm lashed out in Khan's direction. He deflected most of the blow, but the impact knocked the wind from him. He was about to aim in Lo Si's direction when Peter finally came up behind Freize.

Peter opened the plastic container Kermit had given him with the ashes that had been blessed by a priest. With a prayer on his lips, Peter sprayed the contents of the container all over Freize.

At first, the man laughed at Peter's audacity, but then a look of pure horror came over his expression as he started to burst into flame wherever the ashes landed on his skin and clothes.

Disbelief remained for several long moments as he attempted to put out the flames, but the flames only grew stronger. Freize became enveloped in the fire and staggered around, screaming horribly. His army of frogs also burst into flames at the same time.

Peter glanced down to where Jody was lying on the ground and Freize was dangerously close to her in his erratic death throes. Peter dove for her, wrapping his arms around her to protect her as much as possible and they began rolling down the incline away from the shrine, down toward the pond.

As they rolled, Peter knew he'd used the last of his meager energy supply and the darkness of unconsciousness was now moving in to claim him. He rallied against it, fighting against it with all he had.

He had to make sure Freize was really gone. He had to make sure his father and Xenia were okay. He had to make sure he hadn't harmed Jody by rolling down the hillside. He had to – close his eyes, if only for a moment.

As he did, all he could hear was death screams. It wasn't the end of one man's life, but the end of an immortal. The screams were a little different, but the result was the same.

Then came a cacophony of voices, joyous and pure, from the souls Freize had enslaved during his short time since the attack at the carnival. The ensuing chorus sounded like freedom to Peter and he prayed those poor souls now truly were free from Freize's influence.

When silence filled the air, Freize was gone and all that was left was his ashes. When Freize set fire to those poor Chinese immigrants, ashes were all that was left of their existence, too. But their ashes – the good that remained of the murdered Chinese, had become the weapon that had ultimately destroyed Freize and all his evil power.

Ashes to ashes, Peter whispered to himself.

Peter opened his eyes one last time and then collapsed to the ground beside Jody. As he checked on her, he found her eyes were open, too, and she was watching him. Seeing Jody's beautiful eyes open again was like a healing balm to his troubled soul. Jody was awake. His heart sang with joy. It was the stuff dreams were made of and a much welcomed change from the living nightmares they'd been experiencing for the last several hours. He moved forward to kiss her, but he just ran out of energy and slumped to the ground... but he was finally at peace.

**oOoOoOoOo**

When Peter awoke at the hospital, he knew where he was immediately. Thankfully, he was back in a world he understood, and far away from a world where impossible things were commonplace. It didn't change the fact that so many people had died who didn't need to die.

He shifted and groaned softly. His body ached with a fearsome misery. He had been too hard on it and now it was paying him back with every ache and pain possible. He sighed, gripping his side as it throbbed. "Suck it up, Caine. This is what you get for playing Superman."

He had thought he was alone but with his muttering, he heard the deep resonant chuckle of his father. Immediately, he felt better, just knowing with certainty his father had survived in the encounter intact. He opened his eyes to see his father sitting in a wheelchair beside his bed.

"So, is this the lesson you have learned from this traumatic ordeal, my son? That you are not Superman and must learn to deal with life's problems without putting yourself into intensive care each time?"

Peter made a face at his father. "Very funny," he muttered.

He pointed a finger at him. "As I recall, Pop, you were taking several risks with your own well being. Are you telling me to do as I say, but not as I do?" Peter could feel the mischievous glint in his eyes.

His father smiled back at him and leaned back in his seat. "Let us all rejoice in the fact that we survived our final encounter with Dr. Freize, without further loss of life. The hospital administrator was telling Captain Simms that those injured in the midway massacre are improving and they haven't had another fatality for the last twenty-four hours."

Peter perked up with that news, straightening up in his bed, but he immediately regretted the action. He hissed through clenched teeth, "That's great."

His head dropped back to the bed and his eyes narrowed. "The last twenty-four hours? How long have I been out?"

His father paused in thought. "Since the morning before last. You underwent surgery, blood transfusions, and were in a coma much like Jody's until this moment."

A thousand thoughts rushed through Peter's mind at the same time, all jostling for importance, leaving him silent for a moment. His eyes closed as he tried to concentrate, but he could tell the medication in his system had jumbled his brain.

"Freize?"

"Gone forever."

"Jody?"

"Doing very well. She will probably be discharged tomorrow."

Peter relaxed. "Ah, that's great news."

"What about Xenia? And Wolf?"

His father's gaze dropped down and he toyed with a plain-wrapped object on his lap.

"Pop, what is it? Are they okay?"

"Wolf wants to take Xenia and Inky back to the 'old country' where he knows people who can help Xenia develop her gifts to their full potential. She is fearful of leaving, but Inky is going with them. It will be an interesting adventure for them all."

Peter took a deep breath. "So, it's over – it's really over," Peter whispered as he ran a hand through his hair. "And the others from the precinct? What about Lo Si?"

"Peter, those with injuries are healing. Those without injuries have returned to work. The hostages Freize had hidden away were found with Mary Margaret's help and Lo Si is his usual chipper self. Please, there is no need to agitate yourself."

Peter frowned, and fiddled with the adhesive on one of his bandages. "Why do I get the impression there's something that's not finished? Or maybe like you've got something bad to spring on me."

His father smiled. "Your intuitive senses are growing strong, my son, but what I have for you is not bad. In fact, it is quite the opposite."

Peter straightened up in bed, still slightly apprehensive. "What is it?"

"I have a gift for you, one offered by the departing Chinese spirits."

Peter's mouth dropped open. "What?"

His father held up a small book wrapped in brown paper. "The last spirit presented it to Lo Si as a thank you for helping them join their ancestors."

Peter knew his expression had to look like one, big unspoken question, but his heart had begun to beat faster as he wondered what the object might be.

His father handed Peter the dusty gift. Peter took it and sat it on his lap – too afraid to open the wrapping, only to have his hopes dashed. His father leaned forward and placed a hand on Peter's arm. "Open it, my son, and rejoice a gift long thought lost."

With that, Peter needed no further encouragement; he tore through the wrapping and found it was indeed his mother's journal. He opened it with shaky hands. On the first inner page, there was a notation.

_'This is to you, my dear Peter. In these pages, I've tried to tell you as much as I could about me and my life and how I met your father, and how much I love you, but one journal is not enough. Unfortunately, a hundred journals would never be enough, but hopefully it will help you understand and know the mother you lost so long ago. With love eternal, I will be with you always, my son._

_'Signed, your loving mother, Laura Caine.'_

Peter shuddered with the intensity of his reaction and tears filled his eyes as his fingers traced the impression of the handwritten words. His father moved stiffly to sit on the bed beside his son.

"It is a miracle. Truly a miracle."

Peter's wide eyes glanced up at him. "But how?"

His father shrugged, then flinched when the motion aggravated painful wounds. "I can only imagine Tan stole it from the temple during its destruction and hid it away at the shrine for some unknown reason. Maybe he planned to return there one day and use the book to torment you. Maybe he died before he could carry out those plans. I do not know. All I know is you now have a connection with your mother you never had before. Rejoice."

"Even though I've only flipped through a few of the pages, this – this journal will bring her to life for me in a way I never dreamed possible. I only wish... "

"What is it, my son," his father asked.

"Nothing. I was going to say I wished we had found the journal earlier. It might have quieted some of the discord I've felt over never really knowing her, but... "

Kwai Chang smiled. "But the journal was not revealed to you until the proper time for you to have it. Now, you will take this journal and learn about your mother in a way you might not have fully appreciated at an earlier age. All things in their proper time."

"Yes, I think I really understand that now. This journal is more precious to me than any gold in the world. But, maybe, you should be the one to keep it. I mean, after all, she was your wife."

His father shook his head. "No, she wrote that journal for you, so that you could know her inner thoughts and dreams for you. She did not write it for me. It is for you and you alone, my son."

"Well, after I've read it, you are more than welcome to borrow it any time you'd like."

His father patted his son on the arm and shook his head. Peter glanced up at the television running the news for a moment, but that's all it took. The news report was glorifying the catastrophe, showing injured victims in recovery and a shot of the morgue with so many dead, leaving Peter awash in guilt over the whole incident again.

Peter's fists tightened and he said, "If only I had just paid more attention – "

His father stopped him with a single touch to his arm. "Peter, let me explain this in a different way. There are no mistakes in life. Everything happens for a reason – even our forced separation – even your mother's missing journal turning up so much later than she had planned to give it to you – all of these things happened because they were supposed to happen at their appointed time for us to learn the lessons we need to learn. Never doubt that."

"How did the spirits find the journal?"

"One of the spirits, a father who had lost his son, had come across it as they invaded the shrine. The spirit sensed the book's great importance and gave it to Lo Si before leaving this earthly realm."

Peter's head dropped down and he picked up the book again.

"So, this will finish most of the unfinished business between Mom and me?"

His father smiled broadly. "No, it will not finish anything. You will read it and find yourself with a whole host of new questions. I will help answer them as best I can."

His father eased himself back in his wheelchair and sighed, "All of life is a matter of attempting to finish unfinished business in one form or another, but we can never finish everything in the course of one life. Yet, the circle of life gives us opportunities to resolve the more important ones. Each moment is precious, each lesson an influence upon us. We do the best we can – and, Peter?"

Peter looked up at him, waiting for the end of the lesson.

"Yes, Dad?"

"We do the best we can and it is enough. It is always enough, because that is the way it is supposed to be. That, my son, is the lesson you need to accept and ingrain into your heart and soul from this latest incident. Whatever you did at the mausoleum that night was enough. The things that happened afterward were meant to happen, with everything all falling into its proper place – perhaps, so that you could finally gain possession of your mother's journal. Never question fate, it will guide us along our proper path as long as we keep our hearts and minds open to what is around us."

Peter blinked away a few tears and swallowed away the rest. "Pop, I love you. God, I love you. Thanks for being here with me as we walk the journey of life together once more."

His father bowed and reached forward to clasp Peter's hand. They held onto each other with the journal resting underneath their hands, as if Laura Caine was joining in the embrace with them. And perhaps she was looking down on them, reveling in the love shared between the two most important men in her life.

**oOoOoOoOo**

**Chapter 10**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Peter was still talking to his father when he heard someone at the doorway. It was Inky and Xenia.

"Well, I can honestly say you look like hell, Xenia," Peter said, hearing the echoes of guilt in his voice, but unable to stop it.

Xenia took his hand and sat on the bed, her every movement implying deep fatigue. She seemed to ignore it and smiled at him. "And you don't?"

Peter chuckled and shook his head. Inky patted Kwai Chang on the back. "How about I take you for a stroll, once around the block for old times sake. We have to leave for the airport soon, but we've got enough time to say goodbye."

Caine smiled and nodded. He waved at Xenia as Inky pushed him out the door.

Peter had fallen silent as he rubbed his fingers across her hand, unable to meet her gaze. He struggled to find the right words to apologize for dragging her into this mess, but before he could, Xenia spoke for him.

"It's not your fault, Peter. It's nobody's fault. It was meant to be. I've never stretched my abilities to this extent before and I never would have, unless I'd been put into this situation. I truly believe we all would have died without everyone doing their best to defeat Freize... even Randy played his part.

"Randy had changed so much from last year... I mean, it was so much that I didn't recognize him at first, but he tried to do the right thing at the end. Too bad it cost him his life... but I can't help thinking his sacrifice might have salvaged what was left of his soul."

She shook her head and Peter knew she'd been talking to cover his extended silence. He felt like he was being crushed by the weight of so many dead and so many injured in Freize's mad scheme. Once again, guilt flared to the forefront of Peter's thoughts. Maybe if he had been more on top of things from the start...

"No, Peter, stop that!"

Peter's head snapped up and his surprise quickly shifted into anger. "What? Are you saying I'm innocent in all of this? That I'm just a victim in Freize's plot?"

He paused for a moment and ran a hand through his hair. Glancing over at the bedside tray, he picked up the morning paper left there from earlier in the day and he waved the headlines in her face.

"Does that miraculously change the death toll? Does that mean your father didn't lose his carnival? Does that mean..." he stuttered as his head dipped down, weighed down with his overwhelming guilt. "Does – does that mean you don't have to leave the country and go with Wolf so that he can help heal you?"

Xenia brought both hands to Peter's face, cupping them along his trembling jaw. "No, Peter, it doesn't mean that any of those things have changed. But don't you see? The change that was meant to happen was inside of us, inside all of us involved in that challenge. We are all different people now, forged stronger in the fire of Freize's madness and evil."

She put her forehead to rest against his. "And you will always hold an important place in my heart because of it."

Peter heard weakness ringing in her voice and felt the slight tremble of her hands against his face and he knew she'd have to rest soon or she would collapse. His guilt tried to swell anew, but the truth of her words pushed it away again.

"I'll never forget you, Xenia," he whispered.

She smiled and pulled back. "You better not."

Her smile was only a fraction of its usual intensity. The encounter with the spirits and Freize had drained her _chi_ to a dangerous level. It scared him to see her so weak.

Without thinking about it, he put a hand to her chin.

"This is the greatest gift you have given me." He lifted his mother's journal to show Xenia. "For the first time in my life, I will really have a chance to get to know my mother in ways I never thought possible."

"Then, it was all worth it. Everything. To obtain the impossible is worth a little hell." She beamed at him before she started to falter.

She sighed as she pulled away and stared at Peter for a long moment. Taking his left hand, she turned it over and studied the lines of his palm. The gesture made Peter smile and he chewed on his lower lip as he watched her work, remembering how he had first met her in her fortune-telling booth at the carnival.

When she looked up at him, he was surprised to see tears filling her eyes. "What? What is it?"

She shook her head, looking slightly embarrassed by the presence of her tears. "I see you living a happy and fulfilling life with a woman you love... it's just not me." She tried to smile and failed. "You have another love, Jody, and she's a very lucky lady. I guess I just was struck with a walloping dose of jealousy."

Peter stared at her in confusion. "Xenia?"

Before he could reach for her, she stood, then had to grab the wall behind her for support. "Don't pay any attention to me. My emotions are still riding the rollercoaster ride from the encounter at the shrine. I'll be okay. Really, I will. But I have to catch my flight. And – and – "

"Xenia, please wait," Peter called as she headed for the door.

She turned and gave him her best smile. "I'll write once we get to where we are going. We'll keep in touch. I better not hear of you winding up in the hospital again. And I have my own unique way of checking up on you."

Her voice broke off and she looked flustered by her unchecked emotions. She locked onto Peter's gaze for another moment, and then waved at him. A moment later, she was gone without uttering another word.

Peter set his mother's journal on the bedside tray and threw back his blankets, but when he started to get up, he had to grab his side, which flared in painful protest and he gritted his teeth as he rode out the discomfort.

Cursing under his breath, he tried to rise again, but the same thing happened, and then the room started spinning.

"Son of a bitch!" he muttered as he dropped back to the bed.

He closed his eyes and spent a few minutes trying to steady his breathing, then he felt a cool hand gently press on his forehead and side and knew without opening his eyes that his father was back with him.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Peter had fallen asleep after his father's ministrations. When he awoke, he had company from the precinct in his room. Kermit, Skalany, Blake, and Jody were there, adding yet another flower arrangements to the many already present.

"Hey, guys, what's up?" he asked softly.

"Just checking on our favorite partner," Skalany said.

She was on crutches and had a hell of a bruise on her forehead, but she looked so much better than the last time Peter had seen her.

"Hey," Kermit complained as he adjusted the sling supporting his burnt shoulder, "I thought I was the favorite partner."

Mary Margaret smiled devilishly. "You are when you do those fantastic things with your computer. Otherwise, it's Peter, just because you never know what's gonna happen when he's around."

"Ain't that the truth," Jody said as she bent and kissed Peter on the forehead.

"Should you be up and about?" Peter asked her with concern.

"Sure, I'm going home in the morning, so I need to start moving around."

She brushed his hair from his eyes as she stared at him, studying him as if she was looking deep into his soul rather than just at his face. "God, I'm glad you woke up. I thought you were going to play my game of Sleeping Beauty for a while. Trust me, I'm very tired of that game."

Peter didn't say anything. He just took her hand and sighed. Looking over at the ragtag group surrounding him, he told himself he couldn't ask for a better group of friends in all the world. He moved to sit up in the bed and grimaced, releasing Jody's hand to clasp his side.

"Are you okay?" Jody asked.

"Fine," he hissed through clenched teeth. "Just fine."

He laid back on his pillow and sighed. "You'd think I'd learn to dodge the bullets one of these days."

Kermit smirked. "Yeah, but then when would we get to visit you? You are constantly on the move, except when you aren't in the hospital."

"Ha-ha-ha," Peter muttered, but he was eating up the camaraderie. It was even more precious since there had been times during Freize's attack when he thought he would lose all of them. He felt Jody's hand on his shoulder and he leaned into it.

Skalany broke the silence that followed. "Well, Kermit's promised to buy me and Blake some coffee at the special coffee stand in the cafeteria, so we are off to caffeine heaven. We'll let you two catch up a bit."

Peter looked at the others and smiled. "Thanks for stopping by. I'll see you later."

"Better believe it, honey," Skalany said in a sexy voice as Kermit ushered her out of the room.

Blake smiled broadly and shrugged his shoulders as he left. "Caffeine heaven calls, partner."

Jody sat on the bed beside Peter and took both hands in hers. "What is it?" Peter asked, confused by her sudden serious demeanor.

She gave him a look and sighed. "I heard about how you camped out at my bedside last week. Then there was everything that happened with Freize. After that, it was my turn to camp out beside your bed. You had us all pretty worried."

Peter nodded and locked onto her gaze, saying, "Jody, do you have anything you feel is unfinished in your life? You know, say you never woke up from your coma. Say you died with those others in the drive-by. Is there something you would have regretted not finishing, or wish you hadn't left undone?"

Jody's eyes widened, as if she was bewildered by his question. "Where's all this retrospective insight coming from?"

Peter licked his lips. "Maybe from almost dying myself."

Jody gingerly squared her shoulders. "Well, yeah, I guess there would be, if I stopped to think about it, but I don't want to think about it right now. The scare is still too new. Why do you ask?"

Peter ran a hand through his hair, as he fidgeted in the bed. "I don't want any unfinished business in my life, Jody. Not with you. Not with my father. Not with anyone."

"What does that mean, Peter? What unfinished business do you think we have?"

Peter reached forward and pulled her close to him and kissed her long and hard. She leaned back from him, moving to wipe the residual lipstick lingering on his lips, and smiled. "Oh, that unfinished business. Now, I get it."

She got on the bed beside him and rested her head upon his chest. Without looking up at him, she said, "I don't think we ever had anything unfinished between us. It was more like it was unspoken. I think you've always known I cared for you."

Peter hugged her closer to him as he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "This past week has revealed a lot to me about the life I had that I always seemed to take for granted. I never want to take anything or anyone for granted again."

"Is that because of your mother's journal?"

"Partly, but if what my father says is true, and nothing ever happens by accident, then I want to keep my eyes and ears open to fully understand the things that happen in my life. I want to be able to look back and see that this incident happened here to cause this other thing to happen there. I want – "

Jody put a finger over his lips. "You want peace and serenity. And your mother's journal might help to bring you some of that. Just don't try to analyze everything that's happened, Peter. Take some time to appreciate it for what it was. The good and the bad. That's what has been running through my mind since I was shot. Appreciation for all that I have, the gifts I never noticed til they were about to be taken away from me. Gifts like you... "

Peter smiled and replied, "And you."

Jody snuggled against him again, careful of their injuries. "Right now, there's something I want to really appreciate."

"What's that?" Peter asked.

"A little peace and quiet with the guy I'm crazy about."

"Oh," Peter said, pursing his lips together in a half smirk. He snuggled down to be more comfortable in her embrace. "Okay."

And he realized he had all he'd wanted from life.

**oOoOoOoOo**

When Kwai Chang and Mary Margaret peeked in on Peter and Jody an hour later, they were asleep. Mary Margaret switched off the overhead light and smiled at Kwai Chang. "That looks pretty nice."

"What is that, Mary Margaret?" Kwai Chang asked as she slowly progressed out of the room using her crutches. He had abandoned his wheelchair and was walking, albeit slowly.

Mary Margaret turned toward him and smiled. "Sleeping in the arms of someone you love."

Kwai Chang smiled back at her. "Oh, I see."

She stopped and leaned closer to him, brushing a hand through her hair. "I hear you've got a room nearby. Wanna get lucky?"

He merely laughed and pulled her even closer to him, careful and carefree in his embrace at the same time. "It could be arranged."

She chuckled and stared at him for a long moment, feeling her expression shift from happy to poignant. "I will never tire of the things you do, Caine. What you did at the shrine were nothing short of miraculous."

Kwai Chang brought a hand to her cheek. "It is such a little thing to produce amazement, Mary Margaret."

He leaned closer to her and kissed her open lips. When the kiss faded, she whispered back to him, "The trick is stay in constant wonder at the miracle of life. Man, if I was any deeper in wonder of the miracles I've seen this week, I'd be catatonic."

Kwai Chang laughed and brought his hand to the small of her back to guide her to his room. "I am grateful you are not catatonic, for I should like to hold you in my arms until we fall asleep as Jody and my son have done."

Mary Margaret chuckled devilishly, "Is that all you want to do?"

This time, Kwai Chang's laugh was more pronounced. "All in its rightful time, Mary Margaret. We must remember our injuries."

"Yeah, but you're Shaolin and I'm sure you can do – "

He put a finger to her lips to silence her. "I am but a man."

"Yes, but what a man..." she said with a sigh. "No, I'm only kidding. If you want to sleep, I can go to home."

He stopped, taking her in his arms so suddenly she almost lost her balance. "When I thought you might be dead, all I could think of were the things I have never told you. The words I never said that explained how deeply I care for you. I do not wish to leave this life without you knowing how important you are to me."

The sudden admission by Kwai Chang left Mary Margaret teary-eyed and speechless.

He held her for a long moment. When he pulled away, he reached up and wiped at the tears she had shed while in his embrace. She seemed to struggle to control her swell of emotions when she reached forward and hugged him again. They stood like that for a long while as people walked by. When she finally pulled back, she smiled bravely for him when he went to brush the new tears that had appeared.

Her voice was hoarse as she said, "See, Caine, you don't always have to say the words for me to know everything. Those things you thought were unfinished and unsaid between us were always clear to me. I have felt your love within my heart. And sometimes, Kwai Chang, that alone is enough to keep this detective thanking her lucky stars."

He nodded once and then they resumed their path to his room.

"Still," Mary Margaret added as they moved along, "Words can be a good thing. Direct communication can work wonders in couples already deeply in love. I've read where – "

He nodded and started forward again. Mary Margaret paused for a moment, then worked hard to move her crutches along to catch up to him, her tone changing. "I talk too much some times, don't I? That's what my mother always tells me. I talk too much."

Kwai Chang only smiled, reaching to catch her hand as they paused and brought it to his lips, taking a moment to kiss each knuckle of each finger, and then he turned the hand over and kissed the center of her palm.

Looking up at her with an enigmatical twinkling of his hazel eyes, he murmured, "Much can be communicated in silence and in speech. I love you when you are talking or when you are quiet. I simply love you, my dear Mary Margaret."

Mary Margaret's eyes watered as she brought her much kissed upon hand to her lips and held it there. "I love you, too, Kwai Chang Caine. And that's all I'm going to say about that for the moment. Right now, I'm tired and want to lie in your arms. Do you think that can be arranged?"

Kwai Chang smiled and the twosome made their way to his hospital room in silence, but still reveling in the joy of expressed feelings for one another.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Lo Si turned to Master Khan as they stood at the end of the hospital corridor and smiled with an impish grin. "I sense that the proper balance of life has returned to the Caine family. Serenity battling with stubbornness, just as it always has been. Though, now there is more satisfaction reflecting in their auras. Through the challenges of the day, they have won a greater sense of who they are and what they want to be, appreciating not only what they have, but what they do not – and through it all, they emerged stronger than before."

Master Khan looked down at the two gifts they had brought for the father and son, and gestured with a question. "What do we do with these?"

"We pick up a couple of beautiful nurses just getting off duty and give them the chocolates we brought for Peter and the flowers for Kwai Chang," he said with a mischievous chuckle. Lo Si swept out one hand. "Come, my friend, life is to be enjoyed. Let us enjoy the night. I believe I saw a lovely pair of nurses just leaving. A blonde who would catch your eye, along with a beautiful older lady, though she is probably too young for me. I'd say she couldn't be over sixty, if she was a day. They were just around the corner here."

Master Khan's laughter filled the empty corridor as he followed the Ancient around the corner. "Life is to be enjoyed," Khan repeated, still chuckling at Lo Si's animated ways.

The only reply heard a short time later was Lo Si's "Bloody Marvelous!"

Apparently, the two Shaolin had won escorts to dinner for the evening. Then the corridor was quiet again and life in the hospital went on as usual – with a little less unfinished business.

**oOoOoOoOo**

**The End**

**Chapter 11**


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